Memories of the World's End
by Lucrezia Borgia
Summary: UPDATED! After the destruction of the Wormwood, what are Mater Motley's plans for the Abarat, and what do they mean for the fallen Prince and the citizens of Idjit? Chapter 14, of smugglers and complications.
1. Do not blame the wind

Author's Note: All song lyrics are by Rasputina, unless otherwise noted. The only things I own in this story are my original characters(who should be obvious) and my own plot contrivances. I will try to maintain the integrity of the world and characters Mr. Barker was so kind to share with us, but this is a _fan_fiction, and as such, will most likely go places he never intended it to.I also intend eventually to poke as much fun at Finnegan Hob as I possibly can.This first chapter will be mainly exposition as I lay the groundwork for my story, and contains spoilers for the second book. Hopefully it will get more interesting after this chapter.Looking forward to reading reviews, a word of caution; this is my first fanfiction, please be gentle.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I think of a lot of things when I'm walking,  
I think of a lot of things walking home.  
__I say them aloud to myself, I am talking,  
__I talk to myself when we are alone._

I remember the first time I saw the Lord of Midnight. I was sitting with my sisters on the shores of Idjit, a lesser sibling of Gorgossium, when he came sailing by in his great red warship, _Wormwood, _purple sails flying. My uncle had a boat, when he was alive, with purple sails. Carrion's sails were meant to inspire fear and awe, signifying his royal status as Prince of Darkness, but they looked like home to me. Like spending long, lazy hours aboard the _Boudicca_ while my daredevil uncle experimented with new maneuvers. The thrill of those days, his handsome face alight with joy and excitement while his little nieces squealed in glee as the lightning crackled overhead, remain my fondest memories of him. How unlike our enigmatic Prince my uncle was.

The Dark Prince must have sensed me watching him, because he turned and stared at me with those piercing eyes. His ravaged lips curved upwards in the most horrific smile I had ever seen. Every demon, ghoul, or monster that had ever chased me in my nightmares was personified in the skeletal visage of Christopher Carrion. I was dimly aware of my younger sisters shrieking and scrambling for the door of our modest house, built from the wreckage of the _Boudicca_. I, however, could not follow them, had I wanted to. An invisible force had pinned me to the rocky shore I sat upon, and I could not tear my gaze away from that twisted face. The garish light from nearby Commexo City illuminated his features harshly, as did the light emanating from the creatures swimming around the lower half of his head. A crack of thunder from Idjit's constant electrical storm brought me out of my trance, and I shook my head. When I looked up again, the Lord of Midnight was no longer visible on the deck of the massive ship.

It didn't matter. His image was permanently seared into my memory.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

When I was a young girl,  
_A young girl, a young girl,  
__When I was a young girl,  
__Then, oh, then.  
__It was a ha-ha this-a-way,  
__Ha-ha that-a-way,  
__Ha-ha this-a-way,  
__Then, oh, then._

My sisters and I had lived with our uncle for as long as we could remember. It wasn't that something terrible had happened to our parents, exactly. Our mother was alive and well on the island of Jibarish, or so we were told, and it was for that precise reason that we were sent to live with Father's brother, Xaver. We loved our uncle very much, my sisters and I, and he adored us to distraction. That he was something of a daredevil, well, in hindsight I can see why Mother tried to kill Father, instead settling for driving him completely mad and setting him loose on her island, where its very metamorphic nature soon brought him to his end. I loved going on one of Xaver's adventures, though. Like everyone in the Abarat, Xaver had a connection to the sea. Unlike most, my uncle's almost mystical attachment to Mama Izabella kept us at sea for months at a time. Occasionally we would dock in Hobarookas, where he was well known and well liked, to pick up supplies in exchange for my uncle's brief service as a chef. An excellent cook, my uncle had tried to teach me the culinary arts. I remember him looking up at me from across the stove.

"Now, you have to remember how to do this, so that when you meet someone you like, you can bring him home and prepare this amazing meal for him. Then, when he leaves, he'll think; _Oh, that was very good._" he leaned in and winked at me. "_I hope she likes me!_"

Hobarookus quickly became my favorite destination, despite the brightness of daylight.The throng of colorful people and the sound of sea shanties in the air lent it a festival-like atmosphere. Though I doubt my father had planned for us to have such familiarity with pirates and thieves, the rough-and-tumble lifestyle which eventually robbed us of our beloved guardian also provided us with the connections and the skills to look after ourselves, when the time came.

After his death, I would have been content to sail on as we had been, exploring and experiencing as much as possible. My younger sisters were not so eager, and as I had a responsibility to them, I agreed to settle on the shore of Idjit, our uncle's favorite island, where the storms never cease and the thrill-seekers flock to chase the lightening. The beautiful_ Boudicca_ made a nice small home for the three of us, and when I hung the newly refashioned purple sails(pirated, of course) in the doorway and the windows, I began to think I could live in one place, without the sway of the sea to help me sleep. Living on Idjit was, for the most part, a simple matter. It was one of the Unfettered islands, though most of its regular inhabitants, such as us, remained loyal to the Royal House of Carrion. I personally despised what was happening with the Abaratian government attempting to create a single alliance of the whole chain of islands. There was a reason A'zo and Cha created the Abarat in two halves, Night and Day, I believed. Thankfully it seemed Mater Motley and Prince Carrion were of a like mind, and had so far refused all offers to join the alliance. The Commexo Corporation was also trying to unite the islands, and Rojo Pixler was quickly finding that he had little support from those outside of his disgustingly bright city, especially on the Night islands. My sisters were not overly concerned with the politics of the islands, but I made sure as I waitressed in the bars on Idjit, or occasionally returned to Hobarookas, that I remained abreast of new developments. If there was one thing an uncertain lifestyle teaches you, its how important watching the current is. If things changed suddenly, I needed to be sure my sisters and I would be all right.

Lately on Idjit there had been much gossip about a thief who had angered the Prince, and his supposed accomplice, a young girl, who was an angel, some said, and a downright destroyer, said others. The actual events were open to speculation, but what was certain was that she had something the Prince wanted very much, and he had been sending his agents after her across the Abarat for some weeks now. I wondered about this girl. If she had spent any time talking to the inhabitants of the islands she was reportedly frequenting, she should know that if the Lord of Midnight wants something, and you have it, you'd better give it up quickly. By all accounts, she caused massive amounts of trouble wherever she went, which was hardly surprising. Most of the islands, even those still under Lord Carrion's control, preferred to keep their contact with him to a minimum. If this girl was being actively pursued, it put those who came in contact with her in a very difficult position, and she couldn't expect people to endanger themselves to aid and abet her. An old sailor who had served on a spice freighter, and was a regular in one of the establishments I worked in, told me something he had heard about this girl that I dismissed at the time. I had always assumed that the Hereafter was a bedtime story for children, a method of behavior modification employed by the preachers. If it was true, I wondered, how many of the other outlandish stories about her were true?

I put her in the back of my mind as I worked. Waitressing on Idjit had its own unique peculiarities, particularly being able to watch the effect being repeatedly struck by lightening had on a person. Oftentimes a group of people would arrive on the island, but only half their number returned at the end of their adventure. Visiting Idjit made one feel alive, they said. Living on Idjit made one increasingly aware of their own mortality. I had no sympathy for those struck down, no pun intended, by their own folly. I was used to putting up with drunken revelers who thought a tipping a few zems bought them the right to pinch or prod. Idjit promotes excess and indulgence, as the Almenak says, and there were comfort women a plenty for those with the desire. After several drinks, it seemed, all women looked like comfort women to them. I wouldn't allow my younger, and far prettier, sisters to work in the towns. Xandra helped by doing most of the housework. Fina was rather good at making clothes, and between her and I, we had a nice, albeit small, garment business on the side. I was thinking of hiring some men to help us move the house farther up the hill, our current location left us vulnerable to the rising tide. We had become very adept at hauling valuable possessions up the hill during high tide.

It was during one of these nights, when the drinks had been flowing and I knew already I would have several bruises along my hips, that a guard wearing the royal livery of House Carrion entered the bar. I was amused at how quickly the roomful of drunk thrill-seekers quieted, everyone avoiding catching the guard's attention. He was holding a large sheet of paper, which he affixed to the wall beside the door. Without so much as a word, he left. The uneasy murmur of the crowd steadily grew in volume as people pressed close to read the poster. I made my way to the door and slipped into the crowd. Ignoring the people jostling me from behind, I scanned the words.

_**  
Her Majesty, Thant Yeyla Carrion, Queen Mother,  
**__**announces the death of  
**__**her grandson, Christopher Carrion,  
**__**who is henceforth stripped of all titles and honorifics.  
**__**Any persons resisting the transference of rule to the Queen Mother, or displaying continued loyalty to the former ruler, are to be arrested and executed, without trial.**_

The press of the crowd from behind me prevented me from reading further. I quickly ducked away to avoid being crushed. The Lord of Midnight was dead. Such a thing seemed almost impossible. I had seen him before, once, and it was hard to believe that the dreadfully imposing figure in my memory had succumbed to mortality. Immediately my mind turned to my sisters. Where would this shift of power leave us? I wasn't sure of Mater Motley's plans for her empire, and though Idjit's status as an Unfettered Isle granted us immunity from her decrees in theory, we all of us knew that in actuality Idjit was still as much a part of her empire as Gorgossium itself. I stopped planning to relocate the house, and decided to save those zems in case we needed passage to an island further from her influence,Speckle Frewperhaps, or Efreet, if things got really bad. I preferred to keep us on a Night isle, not merely for sentimental reasons, but because we had livedprimarily inthe Night, and I wasn't sure howlong-term exposure todaylight might affect us. I was accustomed to the political unrest that had plagued the Abarat since time immemorial, even so I offered up a prayer to A'zo, Cha, and Mama Izabella to keep us safe and far from the turbulent currents of Mater Motley's ambitions. I, like many, were not swayed in the nights that followed by talk of how sorrowful Mater Motley was about the loss of her "beloved grandson,"claiming this grief was the reason that the Fortress of Inquisit, save the Thirteenth Tower, was being demolished. No, this was the beginning of something black and terrible, and far larger than anyone was willing to admit. Madness was descending over Gorgossium, and it was only a matter of time before it spread, like a cancer, foul and penetrating and permanent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, there it is. I apologize for how short it is, I hope you didn't find it excessively boring. It does get more interesting from here on in, as would any situation once a certain person became involved. I hope everyone has a Happy New Year!


	2. It carries whatever freight

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers. You all get grish fritters with noga seeds(Unfortunately I ran out of bordeaux and brie around New Year's Eve...).  
Satisfyingly is spelled correctly, though grammatical has two m's. ;)  
I don't have a beta yet, and I do all of my writing between 11p.m. and 3a.m.(I'd like to say this is because I'm trying to understand my characters' motivations and lifestyles, but that'd be a lie) so my judgement is slightly impaired. I tried to take my time with this chapter, both to make it longer than the previous one and to do as best as I can with the characterizations.

I think I'd like to take a day-trip into Clive Barker's mind, but not relocate there permanently.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_  
__  
_

_I'm going down to Thimble Island  
__To find my true love there.  
__I'm sure that I can find one,  
__Long of limb, with time to spare._

The Izabella has quite a sense of humor. Finding the Prince of Midnight washed up on the shores of Idjit was one of the most shocking, although possibly fortuitous, things to happen to me. Once the initial shock wore off, I realized what a rare opportunity this was. I took a moment and considered my options. I could alert Mater Motley's drones to his presence, and perhaps we would be rewarded, though I didn't relish the idea of bringing my family to her attention, volatile as she was. I could drag him back into the sea, let Izabella finish him if he was still alive, and forget I ever saw him. He seemed dead already.

_What if he's still alive? What if I help him?_

He was unconscious, and Izabella had stripped him of most of his dignity. The latter condition I remedied by covering him with one of _Boudicca_'s purple sails, having taken it down from the doorway to the house. At first I was worried that he wasn't breathing, his translucent collar was gone, and with it the nightmarish brew he breathed. I didn't know if he even breathed air. I was quite relieved when he coughed up a large measure of seawater. What does one do with a dead prince?

His eyes fluttered open, and immediately seized upon me, causing me to skitter away from him like a surprised crab. Once again I found myself incapable of looking away, and I knew that I now had no choice but to help the Dark Prince.

"M..my lord..." I began.

"What has happened? Where am I?" Even without the terrifying collar and billowing robes, he held a sublimely frightful presence.

"The sea brought you here, to Idjit...I found you...I thought you were dead." I answered.

Carrion pondered this for a moment. "No...not dead. Not yet, at any rate." He seemed to remember my presence. "Who are you?"

" Yseult, your Highness."

He slowly rose to his feet, wrapping the drape around himself as though it were a royal robe. I stood as well, though it did nothing to alleviate my unease. He towered over me by at least a foot and a half.

"Did you find another? A boy?" he asked.

"No, my lord. There is only you."

"Letheo..." he looked over his shoulder, scanning the rocky beach. "Where is your dwelling? I wish to rest, and I am hungry." Carrion was no less imposing for being washed up like flotsam, and the despair that soaked his every syllable sent chills down my spine.

"Just over there, Lord. You may rest while my sisters and I prepare you something to eat." I hurried to match his pace, taking three quick steps to his every long stride.

We followed the shore around the bend that hid my home from view, the lights powered by our makeshift generator outlining the sandy path. I felt a little reassured seeing the familiar red wooden walls of the house, and my sisters tending to the wash. I was quite conscious of his penetrating gaze on my back. The lightning crackled at the top of Idjit's mountains, the ever-present storm raging and the ever-present revelers rollicking in the electricity, ignorant of the fact their presumed-dead Prince was walking their shores.

My youngest sister, Xandra, was the first to notice our approach. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth worked wordlessly. She tugged on Fina's sleeve, and Fina turned to see what was the matter. I ran ahead of our unexpected guest to meet them on the path.

"He's dead!" Xandra whispered.

"He seems alive to me, although it's hard to tell..." the more practical Fina noted.

"Alive, but not in the best of moods. Go inside and make up the bed for him. Xandra, start preparing something for the prince to eat." I instructed them. Xandra eyed me warily as we walked toward the house.

"Mater Motley issued a decree sentencing death to anyone who shows loyalty to him! Are you completely mad, Yseult?" she hissed.

_That is a distinct possibility. _"Mater Motley is not here, at our house, right now. Christopher Carrion is, which makes him infinitely more dangerous to us at the moment. Placate him now, worry later." I pushed her inside. I turned to see Carrion approaching slowly, favoring his right leg.

"My arrival is throwing your household into a frenzy." he noted, looking past me into the house, where Xandra was boiling a pot of water on the stove and slicing some bread, while Fina smoothed the bedclothes into place. "Don't worry. When I remake the Abarat, I will remember your family's loyalty. You will be among the spared on the Night of Nights."

Unsure what the proper response was, I merely said, "Thank you, my Lord."

He regarded me from under heavy lids, his only concession to fatigue, as he entered. The ceiling was barely high enough to accommodate his towering frame. He glanced around the single room which comprised our home, eyes finally resting on the freshly made bed. I busied myself helping Xandra with the food while he made himself comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as he could be in the cramped quarters. Xandra placed the bread and some butter on a wooden tray, and poured a large glass of milk.

"This is a strange spot for a house. Does not the sea rush in?"

"Sometimes, my lord. It was as far as we could drag our boat." I ladled much of the soup into a large bowl, I didn't know when he had eaten last. Adding several more pieced of dried fish, I placed the bowl on the tray and carried it over to the Dark Prince. Xandra, who seemed determined to stay as far from him as possible, excused herself and returned to the washing outside.

"I apologize for the mediocrity of the meal, my lord."

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I hardly eat at all. I am not concerned with the pleasures most associate with food."

Fina began to clean the kitchen area while I sat with Carrion as he ate. He must have been hungry, even the toughness of the fish did not slow him. I wondered if he was swallowing the pieces of fish whole. I took away the empty dishes and the tray as he reclined as much as he could and closed his eyes. Fina and I weren't entirely sure he was sleeping, but we were as silent as possible, as a precaution. After an eternity, Xandra came back in with the folded laundry, apparently of the opinion that Carrion was less dangerous asleep. I wasn't so sure. We decided to take shifts in keeping watch over him, in case he woke and needed something. I took first watch while Xandra and Fina slept in a makeshift bed on the floor.

I stoked the fire with bits of dried seaweed, trying to keep busy in hopes of quelling the unease in my stomach. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see the Prince's outline on the bed. The sail had slipped to the floor, and I covered him with a quilt, noting the myriad of contusions and abrasions scattered across him. Even sleeping, his presence filled the house with a feeling of fright and danger. Surely Mater Motley and what remained of the Sisterhood of the Thread would be able to detect his life force, diminished as it may be, and follow it to my house. It was as though there were a sleeping dragon in the corner, and I could not escape the thought that I had let my own doom in by the front door. He slept fitfully, sometimes saying the name "Boa," which I knew, sometimes saying the name "Candy," which I would come to know. I hadn't thought that the Prince of Nightmares would suffer from them himself. I could only try to imagine what sort of nightmares a man like Carrion would have.

I was sitting by the fireplace, sewing a garment for my strange houseguest from the purple sail, when I felt his eyes on me. Looking up, I saw him watching me from the bed across the room.

"May I bring you something, my lord?"

"My grandmother sews." he said, softly. I knew of Mater Motley's stitchlings, like everyone else in the Abarat.

"I only sew cloth, I'm afraid. I've never tried sewing skin." It was a feeble attempt at conversation.

"Don't." his eyes never wavered, never even blinked, as he watched me.

I didn't know how to reply, so I returned to sewing in silence. Eventually his eyes closed, though the rest of him remained as still as death. I was convinced he was meditating on something, rather than sleeping. No one is that still in their sleep. After a while, Fina tapped me on the shoulder.

"Get some sleep. I'll finish sewing for you." she whispered.

I handed over the garment and climbed under the covers with Xandra, who turned in her sleep and moved closer. I pulled the blanket higher up over my baby sister and closed my eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Since he got hurt  
__He don't go to work.  
__We try to get by.  
__He just sits in his chair,  
__With a glazed over stare,  
__We can't help but ask ourselves why._

We all watched Carrion closely. Fina had cleverly taken the excess sail material after she finished the robe for him and turned it into bandages for the open wounds. She had initially offered to sew them up for him, and his response had been to close both of his large hands around her small neck until she lost consciousness, screaming _"Get that needle away from me!"_ Thankfully he didn't object to the bandages. It was clear that his battle with Mater Motley had taken a lot out of him, he moved almost cautiously and took long, deliberate breaths. My suspicion that he was nursing several broken ribs was confirmed when he let out a choking gasp as he attempted to lay down. Fina and I(Xandra was now avoiding being in the house with him whenever she could) exchanged a look.

"Your Highness, you must be still." I said. "There's nothing to be done about broken ribs but be gentle and give them time to heal."

He fixed his angry eyes on me. "_Wait?_ You want me to _wait_?" he seethed. "While she is tearing down the Towers and turning my legions against me? While Finnegan Hob and the rest of his miscreants meet with the Grand Council?"

I averted my gaze. "With all due respect, Lord, you are in no fit condition to challenge anyone right now. No one has any illusions about how things will be done under your grandmother's rule, and there are those still loyal to you, though they have been forced underground, who would accept your leadership once more." I chanced looking at him. "But you can't lead until you are well enough to fight again."

It was the wrong thing to say, and in a heartbeat he had me by the neck, shoved against the wall. I clutched at his hands, more to steady myself that to try to escape. I knew I was not strong enough for that. He tightened his grip, and the corners of my vision started darkening. I was surprised when he released me, but quickly realized he had done so out of pain. The prince was clutching his left side and breathing through his teeth.

"I...I meant no disrespect, Highness."I said, quietly.

He shot me a withering glance, his eyes like stone. "If you must meddle, woman, then help me lay down again, since you seem so _concerned_ for my health."

I went immediately to his side, allowing him to transfer much of his weight to me, and helped him walk slowly to the bed. Carrion was quite obviously livid at his incapacitation, his rage very nearly palpable. His outburst had cost him and he remained bedridden for much of the Night.

It was easy to keep him hidden; we never had visitors at the house, the few people who had business with us knew which bars I worked in. I listened carefully to the snippets of gossip in the taverns, alert for any information about Mater Motley or the girl, who may or may not have returned to the Hereafter. So far, no one had openly questioned the decree announcing Prince Carrion's death, though many speculated that he had fled and was still alive somewhere. It seemed people were having the same difficulty I'd had in believing that Carrion could have died, this mythical figure that had dominated our lives for so long. Some theorized he was living with his father, who had disappeared some time ago after the fire on Pyon destroyed the Night Mansion. I kept track of the various rumors, thankful that none came anywhere close to the truth. The feeling of unease in my stomach had been growing steadily worse, I began to believe I had done an impossibly stupid thing by inviting Carrion into my life and the lives of my sisters. His health was improving, slowly, but surely, and as I couldn't kill him outright, the only alternative was to help him. My family's fate was inextricably bound with that of the fallen Prince, and I was only too aware of how dangerously close to the edge we all were.

Carrion, on the other hand, was plotting to regain his throne as only a man who has nothing left to lose can. On days when he was well enough to walk, he would pace the small patch of sandy beach beside the house, drawing maps and diagrams as though staging a siege. Those days when he was confined to the bed were agony for him, and he would use the time to interrogate me about what I was hearing in the towns.

"You, meddler, come here." he beckoned with a long finger. "And what have you heard today?"

"I have heard that you are living under an assumed name on Babilonium, conducting a choir of mungualameeza birds; that you've taken a pilgrimage to Yzil to beg the Princess Breath to inhale you back into her lungs; and that you've fallen in love with a kalukwa woman on Hobarookus and are planning your wedding together."

"And have you heard anything remotely useful to me?" he asked, sardonically.

"Yes," I replied. "It seems your girl, Candy, has been spotted on Huffaker with her motley crew."

I knew that would catch his interest. His appetite for news about the girl was voracious.

"Is that just another of your rumors, or is there truth to it?" he asked, deadly serious.

"I believe it is true, my lord. They were seen by many people. There was much celebration at her return, much rejoicing."

"So...she has returned to the Abarat, after all." he said more to himself than to me. "Both of them."

"Both of them, my lord?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Do you mean the geshrat?"

"_No, I don't mean the geshrat, stupid girl!_ I mean..." he trailed off. "Never mind. Leave me for now."

Injured though he was, I had to admit to myself he still terrified me, which filled me with a kind of impotent fury. No man had ever presumed to control any of us, Xaver had always taught us to be proud and strong. Carrion was as unlike my uncle as Night to Day, and I wondered; If my uncle had been as cruel to me as Mater Motley had reportedly been to her grandson, would I would view men in a harsher light? He had made it clear that my sisters and I were to serve him and procure for him anything he might need, and while Xandra was too frightened of him to object, Fina had raised a delicate eyebrow at some of his demands. After the incident with the needle, she knew better than to voice her opinions, but I could see the anger in her eyes every time Carrion beckoned her from her sewing with some trivial order. The Dark Prince didn't seem to like the arrangement any more than we did, and we were all bound unhappily together in the small house by the sea, each wishing the tide would turn in our favor.


	3. It is laden with, fair or foul

A/N: Thank you to my small but mighty army of loyal reviewers. Unfortunately there seems to be a lack of forums to advertise my work in, and as such I fear the greater fan community remains ignorant of my toil. I shall work to remedy this. In the meantime, enjoy the new chapter, it's lengthy. Sorry it took so long, I have a lot of this fic prewritten in the form of unrelated vignettes, and it's been proving difficult to convincingly connect them. But rest assured there will be periods of feast when I have several chapters to upload at once. We're just in one of the famine periods now. I applaud your patience.

Side note to Eclair; I visited your website. You lead an interesting double-life.

_The Queen Fairy_ and _Brotherhood of The Coast_ were written by the wonderful pirate band The Jolly Rogers, and are reproduced here without permission or malicious intent.

_

* * *

Loose lips  
__Sink ships.  
__Salt sips,  
__Rose hips._

Weather in this particular area of the archipelago had always been somewhat tumultuous, but lately there had been a noticeable increase in the amount of electrical activity. My patrons had blamed everything from Rojo Pixler experimenting with one of his new blasphemous marriages of magic and science, to Mater Motley's increasingly violent campaigns against dissidents. One misguided youth even blamed my beauty, such as it is. I gently advised him against accusing prospective conquests of inciting natural disasters. He tipped well. Things had descended into an uneasy peace between the Prince and my family, meaning that Fina and I did what we could and quietly weathered his tantrums while Xandra pretended he didn't exist and that she in fact was living in a separate house(which was actually only a corner of the room in which she had hung sheets up to act as walls). I was actually rather pleased with the arrangement because when Carrion became bored(which was often and dangerous), instead of bothering me he would quietly sit outside Xandra's "house" and stare at her through the cloth until she acknowledged him with a bloodcurdling scream. Still, I knew inside that such domestic bliss couldn't last, and sure enough there were fresh rumors abounding in the ale houses, and once again I was acting the part of Carrion's ears. I ventured closer to a table where a man was a little deep in his drink and speaking quite animatedly.

"...started grabbing at his clothes, like something was crawlin' up him under his shirt, or something, and then he goes all limp and starts screaming, only it weren't no normal screams like you ever heard. He was screaming like the devil hisself was after 'im, and then he jist went limp. Jist like that..."the man snapped his fingers."...an' I poked him, and he weren't moving..."

I set down the man's drink and walked toward another table, where someone had hailed me. I listened to her companions talk as I took her order.

"...I mean, I never saw anything like it before! They were sticking to everything, and then _boom_! They were everywhere, man, everywhere! So I started running, I wasn't gonna stick around and find out..."

I wrinkled my forehead in confusion, but filed the stories away anyhow, just in case they meant something. That wasn't the only strange thing I heard that day. Two thirds of the way through my shift, one of the other barmaids pulled me over to the corner and whispered in my ear.

"Did you hear about what's washing up on the shores?"

"No, what?"

"Leeches, or something like them. All different colors and none of them pretty. They're spawning like crazy and attacking people, and the people act like their being tortured!"

"Spawning?"

"Yeah, they leave egg sacs full of little black eggs, and the eggs hatch by the hundreds!"

"Who told you that?" I asked, for Serais had a tendency toward the fanciful.

"Everyone's talking about it, Yseult! Open your ears." She picked up a tray of food, fixed her 'customer service' smile on her face and walked back out into the open room.

I was attentive for anything relating to leeches for the rest of the evening, and true to Serais's word, everyone knew someone who knew someone who'd been attacked, or at least seen something. Strangely, when examined, the bodies of those unlucky enough to come in contact with the leeches bore no marks. No bites, no lacerations, nothing. The explanation for this was stranger still. These things were allegedly scaring their victims to death. The few survivors claimed that the creatures had been projecting images into their heads, images so horrible as to drive someone insane before eventually stopping their heart. The Abaratian Council had called an emergency meeting to discuss what sort of steps needed to be taken in order to exterminate this new menace, and to figure out where these things had originated. A small diplomatic envoy had been sent to visit the Princess Breath to ask if she had created them, and if so, could she please stop and help destroy the monstrosities? Likewise one had been sent to Gorgossium, but no one really expected the envoy to learn anything, or indeed, to return at all. It was with all this swimming around in my head that I began walking down the small, dismal path to my house. All the talk about creatures washing up on the shores had me feeling antsy, and I kept checking the shadows as I walked, certain there was something lurking there I just couldn't see.

Fina was setting the table with dinner as I entered. Carrion seemed to have found a book of mine interesting, and was sitting on the bed reading it, one leg stretched out in front of him, the opposite knee brought up to his chest. He didn't acknowledge me, but I knew he was aware of my presence. Xandra was no where to be seen, which meant she was probably walking along the nearby beach. I didn't want her out there until I knew what the rumors I'd heard really meant. I went to the door and leaned my head out, scanning the landscape.

"Xandra! Get back inside here right now!" I yelled, using the bellowing voice I'd learned from a lady pirate captain. Turning back inside, I noted with satisfaction that my outburst had gotten Carrion's attention, he looked slightly taken aback. I smirked. "Something wrong, my lord?"

He didn't reply, instead setting down the book and sitting at the table. He looked at Fina expectantly, who rolled her eyes and began serving him from the dishes. I took my seat to his left, knowing Xandra would want to sit as far from him as possible, though that would mean sitting directly across from him, and he would use that to his advantage.

"I heard some interesting things today, my lord." I said, between mouthfuls.

"Such as?"

"Apparently there's some mutant form of leech terrorizing the islands, multiplying at an exponential rate and leaving a trail of deaths in its wake."

"_Leeches_? I fail to see what that has to do with my present situation." he said darkly.

"People are saying the leeches are scaring their victims to death, and I thought maybe..."

"Maybe I would know what it means, since I am the King of all that is terrifying in this world?" his voice was growing in volume and intensity. "Because I am a _nightmare-ridden monster_ of darkness? _You assume that I would know of everything ugly and sinful and evil?_"

I stepped back from the table as he advanced on me. Fina stood as well, but I motioned for her to stay back.

"No, my lord, I didn't mean..." my words were cut off as he reached for me.

A keening wail broke through the night, stopping us all where we stood. I ran to the doorway as a heart-wrenching scream pierced my consciousness. _Xandra..._

I ran down the path to the shoreline, closely followed by Carrion and Fina. As I rounded the bend, I saw Xandra on her knees, something black and slimy wrapping itself about her head. I was slightly aware of Carrion coming to a sudden stop at the sight of her, but I rushed blindly forward.

"_No, stop!_" a large hand came down on my shoulder, preventing me from moving. "No sudden moves, if you please."

Carrion stepped in front of me and slowly walked over to my dear small sister, crouching beside her an calmly unwrapping the thing from her head. He regarded it sadly for a moment before crushing it between his fingers. The thing gave a small cry, almost like a baby's, as it expired. Something akin to pain flitted across Carrion's expression, soon replaced by his ubiquitous indifference. He picked up the unconscious Xandra and started carrying her toward the house. Fina and I followed in silence.

He set Xandra down on her pallet in her corner not unkindly, before sitting down on the bed, his head between his hands. Fina and I immediately went to Xandra's side, and after ensuring she was in no immediate danger, I rounded on Carrion.

"_What_ was that _thing_?" I yelled, not caring if I invoked his wrath.

"Please, not now..."

"No, you _know_ what's going on, now you're going to tell me! _What was that?_"

"I said _not NOW_!" his eyes were fire.

I stilled my tongue, instead aiding Fina in tending to Xandra while my quiet fury raged inside. Carrion did not move from his place on the bed for what seemed like ages. Twice during the interval Xandra began screaming and woke herself. Fina or I would stroke her hair and murmur words of comfort until she was soothed again. Xandra began describing nightmares that were now trapped inside her head, and her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. I cursed Carrion in my heart for not telling me what he knew, and swore that whatever the consequences were, if Xandra didn't recover, I'd see to it Carrion would pay in the worst possible way.

Finally Carrion stood and took me by the arm, walking me outside. We walked in silence for a long stretch, until I could not even see the lights from the path.

"That thing, those things that people are calling leeches," he began, so quietly I could barely hear. "They are, in fact, nightmares of my own imagining."

Understanding crystalized in my mind. "Those things in your collar..."

"Exactly. During the battle, I became so enraged they broke free, and I let them go. They were spawning, but I thought they'd be swept away by the tide, perhaps wreak havoc in the Hereafter. I didn't imagine them returning to the islands."

"What is happening to my sister?"

"She is experiencing things no young girl should ever experience. If I hadn't removed the nightmare when I had, it would have killed her. As it is, she could still go insane."

My heart sank. "Isn't there anything that can be done?"

Carrion thought for a minute. "There are certain...potions...that could aid her. The ingredients are somewhat strange, and you won't find them in the average markets."

"I don't care, I'll go wherever it takes."

He opened his mouth, as if to list what was needed, when a noise off to the side caught both our attentions. A huddled figure came into view, most of it obscured by the overly large robe it wore. I saw a glistening of blue-green scales on the arm as it half ran, half lurched toward us. Instinctively, I stepped behind Carrion's tall figure. The thing clutched at Carrion's robe as it fell. He pulled it up and threw back the hood, revealing a beastly face with two large, frightened eyes. It tried to speak, but the only sounds emanating from its mouth were distorted beyond recognition, though Carrion seemed to find the creature itself recognizable enough.

"Letheo..."

I helped Carrion lead the thing, Letheo, back to the house. I was reminded of finding Carrion washed up on the same beach, it seemed an eternity ago, and I wondered if the Izabella would ever send anything useful my way. Fina looked up as we led the beast to the bed. I shrugged at her quizzical look. Turning my attentions to Carrion, I saw him regarding the beast strangely.

"What is it, my lord?"

"_It _isLetheo, my servant."

"Your servant? The one you asked me about when I found you? But you said he was a boy, my lord."

"He is, when the beast side of him is controlled. I used to give him green thuaz for that. It kept him bound to me, his need for it. Though he was still disloyal from time to time." he looked down at the unfortunate thing on the bed. "But I think that's all done with now, isn't it? You won't stray again if I help you?"

Letheo made what I suppose was meant as a confirmation, but sounded like a plaintive whine. Carrion turned to me.

"You will procure for me a vial of green thuaz with which I will help Letheo. In return I will also give you a list of ingredients for a potion which will help your sister. Do you agree?"

"Of course."

"Good girl. Now give me something to write on."

_

* * *

When the shot rang out we answered the call,  
__Heartless bastards, one and all.  
__There is no safe place in the lands of Spain.  
__We'll take the ships and we own the Main.  
__We are the ones they fear the most,  
__The Brotherhood of the Coast._

Considering that Carrion couldn't very well call up his old supplier to find out where we could get the things we needed, I was obligated to make the trip to Hobarookus and see if I couldn't find some in one of the more exotic ports of call. I exulted in the feel of wind in my hair, the waves crashing against the sides of the ferry, and the feeling of riding the sea. It was something I adored beyond anything else, something my uncle had instilled in me, _'A pirate's first love is the open sea.' _How I had wanted to be a pirate when I was young! I looked at the strong female captains and I wanted to be exactly like them. I adored my sisters, but sometimes, in my sleep, I dreamed of sailing away and never looking back. Of course I never would, my family was my world, but that's why it was a dream.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I felt the familiar childlike excitement wash over me as the island's shore came into view through the smoky lenses of my sunglasses. Already I could hear music and raucous laughter, see brilliant tents and painted flags, and marinas full of impressive ships, not a one of them come to by legal means. After helping the crew moor the boat to the dock, I disembarked and made for the town with a discernable spring in my step. If it weren't for my concern over my sisters' welfare and virtue, I'd have gladly settled us on Hobarookus rather than Idjit. In my shabby boots, breeches, and shirt, I blended in with the other ne'er-do-wells enough to avoid attention, which on an island like that is exactly what is wanted. I passed the scarlet women and their pimps waiting close to the dock, ignoring the men who called to me, asking if I needed work. No, Fina and Xandra would never come here. I turned a corner, narrowly avoiding being crushed by a drunkard who had fallen over the rail above me, and found myself on a road bustling with vendors and merchants selling everything no other island would sell.

I walked by all the tables laden with jewels and clothes and instead made down a shadowed alley, thankful to be out of the direct sunlight. My eyes were too sensitive, even behind the sunglasses, to stand the glare for long. The vendors in this part of town were of a different sort, and one didn't have to guard one's purse so much as one's person. These men wanted you for your body, and for all the wrong reasons. I saw one tent where limbs were stacked like cordwood, another where organs glistened on beds of ice. Quickly, I ducked into a side shop. The proprietor, a sallow man with lanky black hair and a permanent sneer stood behind the table. I handed him my list, praying he wouldn't ask questions. Apparently he received many obscure requests, because he returned my list without so much as a raised eyebrow and reached under the counter, producing a small glass vile full of green liquid. I examined it as he put together the rest of my order. It was customary to haggle the price, but I didn't really want to spend more time than I had to in that particular area of the town, so I paid the exorbitant sum and left, pocketing the vial.

The boat wouldn't leave for Idjit for a while, so I spent my time wandering the less dangerous avenues, listening to snatches of song and watching the buskers perform in the street. I picked up a few bolts of bright cloth, already envisioning what Fina and I could make of it, including a beautiful blue one out of which I intended to make a dress for Xandra. On impulse I also bought a bolt of expensive black fabric, thinking to make a few more robes for the Prince. We had all started looking rather threadbare, and maybe a more fitting raiment would improve his mood, at least temporarily.

Carrying all my purchases in a bag at my side, I stopped to eat at a small tavern. One of the serving women led me to a table to one side of the room and took my order. Looking around I saw various transactions being made in shady booths and around out-of-the-way tables. The serving woman brought my drink and food, and I tipped her what I knew was a large sum for a waitress. I made it a point of tipping generously when I could, I knew what it was like. Sipping at my drink, I sat back to watch one of the many fistfights being carried on in the tavern. The woman they were fighting over was sitting at the table with a stupid grin on her face, delighted that she had driven the pair to fisticuffs. A group of musicians had mounted the stage and were singing a rather bawdy chanty.

"_...now that's the ship for me!  
__She's called the Queen Fairy, and she's quite a sight to see,  
__The ship's all manned by women, not a single bloke in sight,  
__Except for me, the cabin boy, who tucks them in at night!_"

I clapped along with the rhythm, like everyone else, laughing at the lyrics. It was time to be getting back, finally, and I left the tavern and started back down to the dock. The other passengers seemed to have enjoyed their excursion without worry, and it was a merry crew that set sail for Idjit, though the thunder that rolled over the island was as ominous as the weight in my chest.

_

* * *

He who lives under the banyan tree,  
__When I'm in trouble, he helps me.  
__I hear him creep through the leaves at night.  
__His flesh is pink, but his fur,  
__It's quite snow white!_

Upon my return I found Fina ministering to Xandra in her tented room while the beast-boy writhed in pain on the bed. Carrion had pulled a chair up by the bed, but was reading my book rather than attending to his servant, his feet propped up on the coverlet. I set down my bag by the table and pulled the glass vial from my pocket as I walked across the room. Carrion moved his feet so I could sit on the edge of the bed. I looked from Letheo to the vial, aware I didn't know how to administer the thuaz.

"How much do I give him?" I asked Carrion.

"Give him three drops." he replied, not looking up from the book.

I pulled Letheo into a sitting position, propping him up with one arm around his back. I uncorked the vial with the other hand and carefully let three drops of the liquid fall onto his tongue before setting him back down. I was almost immediately thrown from the bed as he started convulsing violently. I watched in fascination as the scales melted back into skin. Satisfied, I turned my attention to the Dark Prince, wanting him to help Xandra now that he was finished with Letheo. I waited for a minute, during which Carrion continued to ignore me.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to mix the potion for Xandra?" I demanded.

"Oh, that. I've instructed your other sister on how to prepare it." he said.

I resisted the urge to hit him. Leaving Carrion and his minion, I entered Xandra's sanctuary.

"How is she?" I asked, quietly.

"She's getting better. She can't sleep long without screaming and waking herself, but her fever's broken and she ate." Fina wetted a cloth and smoothed it over Xandra's forehead.

"I got everything he asked for. The apothecary was well stocked." I handed Fina the bag.

"Good, I'll start mixing it up, you sit with her." Fina exited the tent.

I sat down next to my little sister and took her hand in mine. It was cold and clammy, so unlike her usually soft, sweet smelling skin. Her eyes were moving rapidly beneath her limbs and I knew from the sounds she made she was in the grips of another nightmare. She began flailing, and I held her down as best I could while Fina rushed in, holding a glass. Fina pulled Xandra up much the same way as I had when I helped Letheo, and she poured the entire contents of the glass down Xandra's throat. Most of it stayed down despite the coughing fit that ensued. Xandra's movements stilled, and her breathing became deep and even as she drifted into what I hoped was a dreamless sleep.

I decided to go for a long walk down the shoreline. I hadn't taken a walk alone since I found Carrion on the beach that night, and after this new development I was worried about finding anything else to further complicate my life. I left the house and saw him standing just outside, looking over the black waters of the Izabella, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned, hearing my footsteps.

"I didn't mean to bother you, my lord. I'll go." I started to walk back to the house.

"No, wait. I find I am in a generous mood tonight. You have done me an excellent service." he looked down at me. "Come, walk with me."

I fell in step beside him, and we began down the path leading away from the house. A bolt of lightening struck the crest of a nearby hill, followed by a resounding whoop from the person caught in its electric grasp. A large group of storm chasers converged on the man, in hopes he would be struck again, and they would be caught, as well.

"Idjit is the island of excess."

"Yes, my lord."

"And what is it that you indulge in?"

"The sea, my lord. I love the Izabella."

He seemed amused. "Our lady Izabella is a demanding mistress. But she has been kind to me."

I was aware he was walking far slower than he needed to, so that I might keep up with him. The familiar sounds of thunder rolled overhead, punctuated by flashes of light, and the surf broke upon Idjit's rocky shore. He paused, looking out over the waves. I followed his gaze and saw the Thirteenth Tower rising solitary from Gorgossium's dismal landscape. The lone structure looked small, isolated, and needle-like, which was good and proper, considering who it's main inhabitant was. I took a chance.

"Do you miss it, my lord?"

He looked down at me. "Inquisit? In a way, I suppose I do. It was never a happy place, but I grew up there, and I do miss the dark corners and winding passages of my childhood. And my library. If she didn't remove the books before she tore it down, then she's a fool. There was such knowledge kept there even my dear grandmother does not possess." he sighed. "Perhaps I shall call upon Rojo Pixler to return the books he stole from me."

"Pixler stole from you? And you let him live?"

Carrion half smiled. "He thought he was being clever, hiring Mischief. But I have ways of my own of keeping track of things, I have loyal servants on every isle. And with Letheo returning to my service..." he stopped and looked down at me. "I am quite pleased with your show of loyalty, Yseult."

"Thank you, my lord. It is an honor to serve you." I was growing uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I looked away and began humming absentmindedly. The ridiculous chanty from the tavern was stuck in my head again, and I remembered the verse they had played as I left.

_Now on that ship our cook's name was Foghorn Fannie Pearl,  
__Around the world you'll not find such a playful, willing girl.  
__But when I take her down below she lets forth such a howl,  
__The captain'd cry 'Thar she blows! There's whales off the bow!'_

I swayed to the rhythm of the music in my head. I'd have to remember that song next time I went, so I could request it. I noticed Carrion had stopped and was looking at me with an odd expression.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing, I didn't expect you to know such ribald songs. But being a barmaid, it makes sense." he replied.

My face flushed as I realized I had sung it out loud.


	4. It brings gossip

Really Long A/N: Yes, I am such a review whore. So thank you to everyone who reviewed. Special thanks to E.R.M. Griffin, who has reviewed every chapter. You get a special cookie.  
Yseult is actually the French derivative of the name Isolde, as in the legend of Tristan and Isolde. I needed names for these characters, and I'm really into the history of names, so I have an expansive library of names and their origins/meanings on my computer(It was much easier than journeying to the Southern Oracle and finding a human child). I picked Yseult at random because it seemed sufficiently Abaratian(even though the Abarat is full of names like Christopher, John, and Finnegan), and made up Fina, Xandra, Xaver, and Serais. As for romance, I don't know if I see romance for Carrion and Yseult. If there is going to be any, it will be down the line yet. Carrion is still very much in love(read: obsessed) with Boa, and that needs to be dealt with first. I can't very well have him just go; "Boa? Boa who? Look at that little dish of a barmaid over there! ::wolf whistle::" I've been working very hard not to make this a Mary-Sue, and you'll notice that there have been no physical descriptions of what the sisters look like. You know that they order in age from oldest to youngest as Yseult, Fina, and Xandra, that their clothes are worn, and that Fina has delicate eyebrows. Beyond that, I want them to look like whatever the reader wants them to look like. I do have a rough story arc I'm following, but be warned that this is going to be an epic length tale, so if you're determined to be in for the long haul, it's going to take a while. And don't expect a lot of chapters as long as the last one was, I'm still recovering from writing it...

This week's song lyrics are from "Brand New Key" as performed by Rasputina, but written by Deana Carter.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_It almost seems like  
__You're avoiding me  
__I'm okay alone, but you've  
__Got something I need._

The blue fabric I had purchased in the market turned out to be much easier to work than I had anticipated, and I had already finished much of the bodice for Xandra's dress. Not that there was any hurry, really; her health had not improved significantly, and though she was not getting worse, Fina and I were still mightily worried about her. Her continued immobilization was affecting more than just our frayed nerves, however. Fina had picked up most of her chores, and I had forced Letheo to help with some of the more laborious tasks, but the addition of Carrion's underling to the household was putting far too much of a strain on our meager income. Even with the extra shifts I was picking up, there was no way things could continue as they had been. It was with reluctance that I agreed to Fina's suggestion that she pursue an apprenticeship with the local tailor. She was good, and I had no doubts that Rangsey would take her on, but it meant that she would be living in an apartment above the shop, and I would not be able to look after her as I would have liked to. Taking a few of the finer things she had made, as well as letters of recommendation from some of our wealthier clientele, I escorted her to the tailor's workshop on my way to the tavern.

"Would you rather I continue along with you to the Frolicking Badger and apply for a position there?" Fina asked, noting the fervor with which I clung to her hand at the tailor's door.

"No! Of course not, I just wish there were another way." I said, relinquishing my death-grip and stroking the back of her hand lightly.

"I know, but everything will be alright. You can come see me on your way from the tavern, and I'll still come by the house often to see you and Xandra." she smiled encouragingly. "_And_ help with the housework Xandra will have neglected."

We both laughed. I wished Fina luck and embraced her, then turned to go on my way, not looking back in case I lost my resolve and was reduced to pacing back and forth before the door like a puppy, waiting for her interview to end. That shift was the longest shift of my life. Serais had to snap me out of my wandering thoughts no less than six different times before the night was over. Thank A'zo and Cha I had enough wits about me to serve my drinks without spilling anything onto the customers, or the family's budget would be worse for the wear regardless of how Fina's interview went. Mistakes were something I could not afford, none of the waitresses could. Ever since the leeches(which I knew to be the descendants of Carrion's own grotesque nightmares) had begun terrorizing the beaches, we had seen a decrease in the number of patrons frequenting our seaside town. My boss had cursed the Abaratian council for not forming a plan to deal with the vile creatures quickly enough; if there was one thing that Aaber hated, it was a loss of profit. In an effort to bring more customers into the bar, he had set Serais and one of the other well-endowed women up as a sort of cabaret entertainment. It was sleazy, and obvious, but the allure of a low-cut bodice overflowing with feminine virtue was universal, and to his credit the business did increase, however slightly. Serais was overjoyed at her newfound celebrity, and took every opportunity to show off her flashy new costume. I did not point out that her brightly colored dress was made out of low quality fabric, and that the dye would run as soon as she was unfortunate enough to get caught in the rain. I was merely thankful that the customers' attentions were focused on Serais and Ramla, rather than on the servers, and at the end of the evening, we all had far less bruises that we were accustomed to in the past.

"Yseult, where was your head tonight?" Serais chided me as she washed the greasepaint off her delicate complexion. "You're normally so attentive to your customers. I was surprised that couple in the booth had to even _ask_ for another round!"

"I know, I know. I am attentive." _At least to what they gossip about._ "But this whole thing with Fina has got me completely frazzled."

She looked at my reflection in the mirror, her wide blue eyes regarding me critically. "You know, you act more like a mother than a sister to those two. No wonder you're looking so haggard all the time."

That remark caught me off guard. "What? I am not looking..."

"Start acting your age, Yseult, or you'll end up old and alone." her blond curls whipped me in the face as she spun and walked past me.

"It's very easy for _you_ to pass judgement on _me_, Serais! _You_ don't have anyone to look after! _You're_ the one who is alone!"

She laughed in her clear, bell-like voice. "I haven't spent a night alone since I started performing on the stage!"

I watched her leave on the arm of some gorgeous young fop who was probably using his father's money to seduce her. _Silly Serais, and she thinks _I'm_ the one who'll end up broken and destitute..._

I passed the tailor's shop on my way home, and felt at once the hope that he had agreed to take on Fina, and the trepidation at my younger sister leaving the family home for the first time. I walked leisurely down the road, ignoring the jostling crowds of Idjit that never seemed to sleep. The bright lights of the city receded behind me as I started down the lonely, sandy path that led to our secluded beach. Someone had taken the wash down from the line outside, probably Fina. I moved the curtain hanging from the doorframe aside and stepped in, tapping my boots lightly against the floor to shake off any excess sand. Xandra was sitting up in bed, looking slightly less pallid than she had been. Fina was packing her few belongings in a valise, chatting amiably with Xandra as she did so. Carrion and Letheo were not present, I assumed they were somewhere on the beach, Carrion outlining his many plans to Letheo in the sand.

My sisters turned and looked at me. I couldn't move, the tightness in my chest was unbearable. Fina must have sensed it, because in a moment she had crossed the room and was hugging me. I pulled back and looked at her, willing myself not to cry in front of my younger sister, who had always been far less sentimental than I.

"It's okay, Yseult. Everything is going to be fine." she took me by the hand and led me to the table, where her valise was only half-filled, containing everything she owned. "You can walk me back to the apartment, if it makes you feel better about it. I'll show you how well the doors and windows lock, so you won't worry."

"I'll always worry." I said, immediately.

"You'll still have me." Xandra ventured, softly. I smiled at her.

"I know, sweetling."

"You really shouldn't be so obvious, you know." Carrion's voice startled me, and I turned to see him standing in the doorway. "Anyone who wanted to ruin you would see immediately where your weakness lies."

He crossed the room and sat on the edge of Xandra's pallet, reaching out a long-fingered hand to stroke her hair. Xandra's eyes widened in fear and she began shaking.

"Please stop that. She's spent half the month in bed terrorized by your nightmares as it is." I said, wearily. Carrion removed his hand and stood. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"I'm only warning you for your own good. Your fate is bound with mine, as is Letheo's, and we are playing a dangerous game. Your deep love for your sisters is a weakness, a chink in the armor. I tolerate no divided loyalties in my servants." he looked over to the doorway, where Letheo had just entered, carrying the night's catch. "Isn't that right, Letheo?"

"Isn't what right, my lord?" Letheo asked, nervously.

"That my servants must have unwavering and undivided loyalty to me?"

"Yes, of course, my lord. Undivided." he bowed his head and took the fish over to the kitchen, where he began skinning them.

"You see? I admire your devotion to your loved ones, Yseult, truly I do. It is a trait I regard highly in women, having never experienced it in the women of my own family. But you see, I am as a vengeful God, and I need to know you would not betray me were someone to take hold of your sisters."  
At this he grabbed Fina by the shoulder and pulled her to him, placing one hand about her throat. Xandra and I cried out in alarm while Letheo studiously ignored all that was happening only a few feet from where he stood, gutting fish.

"_Please..._" I began.

"Please?" he repeated, his eyes closing. "Oh, how I love the sound of that sweet syllable on your tongue, and so sincere! Say it again."

"Please, my lord Prince. Let her go. I'll do anything, only let her go."

"Yes..."he breathed slowly, flinging Fina from him. I caught her as she stumbled. "Yes, you will do anything I ask, won't you, Yseult?"

"Yes." I whispered brokenly, disgusted at my own powerlessness in the face of this man, who so openly manipulated all around him. I pushed Fina behind me as Carrion approached me slowly, with a serpentine grace. He caught my face in his hand and forced my chin up so as to look at me.

"You'll do exactly as I say because _you_ belong to _me_ now. Isn't that right, Yseult?" he said in his low, despairing voice.

"Yes, my lord." I hated the way he used my name, hated everything about him.

"I want to hear you say it, Yseult."

"I belong to you, my lord Prince." I said, forcing my mouth into the words.

Turning me to him, he lightly ran his cold finger down my cheek. I let my loathing for him show openly in my eyes. He merely smiled. "There is nothing half so beautiful as a woman who says 'please,' and means it." he said, softly. I pulled away from him, shaking my head in disgust.

"Very good. Now, I expect you'll be wanting to see your sister off. Have no worries, I'll watch over sweet Xandra while you're away." he sank down onto the bed, book in hand, smiling that ghastly smile at Xandra while she cowered in the corner.

"My lord..."I began to protest, not wanting to leave Xandra with him when he was in one of his moods.

"_I said escort your sister to her new home_, before I become...angry." Carrion hissed, his eyes darkening. Fina grabbed her valise and my arm, and pulled me out of the house after her.

We continued at a quick pace until we were halfway up the sandy hill, the lights of our house hidden behind the bend in the path. Fina released my arm and we walked in companiable silence the rest of the way up the trail. As we began making our way through the masses toward the tailor's shop, Fina grabbed my hand and started to say something. The lightening cracked overhead, and the delighted cry of the crowds interrupted whatever Fina had been trying to tell me. She shook her head in annoyance, and we picked up speed, turning down the street Rangsey lived on. Fina produced a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the door to the shop, Rangsey had long since retired for the evening. She locked the door behind us and led me to the staircase in the back. I followed her in silence up the narrow stairs and entered the small room she was to occupy. It was tiny, to be sure, but Fina had always been neat and organized, and I had no doubt she would make a nice place of it. There was a window overlooking the main street opposite the door, a small kitchen area in one corner, and another door beside the bed which opened into a closet-sized lavatory, complete with a sink and shower. She had a small clothespress on the other side of the bed, and a bookcase flanked the other side of the door. There was no phone. No way to call for help save the window over the main street, down which walked so many people talking and singing and fighting so loudly I knew Fina's light voice would never be heard above them. Fina set her valise on the bed and turned to me.

"See, it's not so bad, Yseult." she smiled, taking my hand. "The window locks from the inside, and there's no trellis or anything for someone to climb up if they wanted to."

She closed the door, locked the handle, and slid the deadbolt into place. "Perfectly secure. Tight as a drum, no one will get in here if I don't want them to."

"What if they have an axe?"

"Yseult! Stop filling my head with things that will never happen!"Fina cried in exasperation. "Everything will be fine. I promise. I'd invite you to spend the night so you'll see, but I don't want to leave Xandra alone with Carrion any longer than is absolutely necessary, so you'll just have to take my being alive tomorrow as proof enough."

I laughed a little, and helped her unpack. In a short time we had put all of her clothes away in the clothespress, set her handful of books on the bookshelf, made her bed with clean linen, swept the floor, and cleaned the tile in the bathroom. There were no more excuses for my continued lingering. Fina finally had to bodily push me out the door, take me down the stairs, lead me out the front door of the shop, and lock the door behind me. I stared at her dolefully through the glass window until she rolled her eyes at me and went back up to her room. I lingered, staring into the darkened shop a few minutes longer, then began the walk home.


	5. It brings laughter

A/N: I should just start addressing these notes to E.R.M. Griffin and Red Stockings by name. Is there anything you two specifically want to see happen? I'll take it into consideration, since you're my most loyal reviewers.  
Okay, since people want to know, Yseult is pronounced ee-SOOlt, or thereabouts. Pronunciation varies depending on what country you're in or what language you're speaking. I don't really care how you interpret the pronunciation, it's entirely up to you.  
The wolf-whistle comment was inspired by something Mandy the O wrote in an author's note about her Phantom fic and why things must progress so slowly. It fit my purposes, so I hope she doesn't mind I misappropriated it.  
I do not intend to soften Carrion one bit, not one tiny little iota(of course, this is greatly helped by the fact that Clive Barker has already imbued him with the makings of a great tragic romantic antihero, so the occasional less-than-evil comment or action isn't _that_ unusual). If anything develops between him and Yseult, she'll have to accept his not-so-cuddly aspects, and revel in them. That being said, I think you'll like this chapter.

I'm evil...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_And she told herself that this all was enough,  
__For a girl who was born in an oil drum.  
__She had her skates, didn't need lots of stuff,  
__She didn't need it, but she still wanted some._

True to her word, Fina was alive and well the next night. I stopped at her small flat on my way to the tavern to share modest breakfast. Rangsey smiled at me and let me into the building, before returning to the skirt he was busily hemming. He was a nice older man, and I knew he'd look out for Fina. I had been wrong to be so excessively worried the previous night. After all, I knew the three of us couldn't stay together forever. Fina was grown up now, soon Xandra would be as well, and then she'd find work, maybe even on a different island. The thought filled me with sadness. I had worked so hard to keep us all together and safe for so long in the wake of Xaver's death, contemplating the end of our cohabitation was like contemplating the end of my existence. Who was I if not their sister and guardian? _Still,_ that traitorous voice in my head insisted, _one day they will be on their own, and then you will be free to sail..._

I silenced the voice with a quick shake of my head, returning to my sewing. I had finished Xandra's dress, and was working on a robe for Carrion, made from that exquisite black material I had purchased. It was soft and flowed nicely. I was sure he'd have no trouble getting it to swirl about him in just the right ominous manner. I was adding a long hood to it, the kind that would drape over his face, hiding it. Perhaps he could start to run some of his own errands, if no one recognized him. Of course, that would mean making a pair of gloves, as well. His hands were far too noticeable.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Xandra was beginning to recover. She awoke screaming less and less frequently, and was able to leave her bed for extended periods, even going as far as bringing the wash in from the line. Fina and I were cheered by her small victories, and with the stipend coming from Fina's commission it seemed like things were finally returning to some semblance of normalcy. Of course, things would never be normal again. A cursory glance around the house reaffirmed that. I had installed the beast boy in the kitchen when I didn't have him working on the house, or he wasn't attending to his master, mostly he cleaned and prepared the fish we caught and the occasional fowl I brought back from the market. I had never enjoyed those particular tasks, and I admit I took some small satisfaction from delegating such unpleasantries to Carrion's lackey. The Abhorrent Prince himself was usually planning sieges in the sand outside, brooding silently in the corner, raging not so silently in my face, or reading one of my books, which he now apparently considered his. I snorted at that thought. He considered _everything_ of mine his, as he so thoughtfully reminded me every night in that annoyingly superior tone of his. He must have sensed what I was thinking, because he closed his(_my!_)book and looked up at me.

"Yseult, come here."

"Yes, my lord." I said with less enthusiasm that he probably would have liked. "What is it I can do for you now?"

His eyes narrowed, but he let my lack of courtesy slide. He produced a list from the folds of one of his new robes and held it out to me. I scanned it quickly. "I need you to get these for me."

"Is my meager library unsatisfactory, my lord?"

"Yes, it is. I'm tired of reading about the history of the islands and ridiculously plotted mysteries. I would have thought you'd have better taste than that. Although, that book in your dresser drawer, the one with the false bottom, was _quite_ entertaining."

I colored at that. The book was a pillow book, given to me by an amorous sailor shortly after I had started working in the taverns. I hadn't looked at it in years. My blush deepened as I recalled some of the more explicit illustrations.

Carrion laughed, quite obviously pleased at my discomfort. "An instruction manual, isn't it? Tell me, are you a quick study?"

A small sound of utter mortification escaped my lips and I grabbed my jacket, heading for the door. Carrion's laughter followed me up the hill. My skin was burning with embarrassment. _Am I a quick study_...what did he care? I stopped dead in my tracks. Wait, why was I even worried about what he thought? Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I glanced once more at the list in my hands. There were only two bookshops in the area, one conveniently locate just across from Rangsey's shop. I could stop by and see how Fina was doing. I had yet to catch her while she was working, and I was curious to see how things were done at a "proper" tailor's. I saw Fina hard at work on a light peach-colored gown as I passed the large picture window facing the street. A bell hung above the door tinkled merrily as I entered.

"Hello, Fina! How's work?"

"Very good, actually. We've been busy tonight. Something about a governor's ball down in the capitol." she shook her head at the gown she was working on. "Honestly, these girls have no taste whatsoever. Do you see the neckline on this?"

"Why don't you design something yourself, instead of using Rangsey's patterns? You're very good at that."

"I suppose I could. I think I'll wait until the customers know me. I don't want Rangsey to think I'm some upstart."

I looked around."Where is Rangsey, anyway? Shouldn't he be, I don't know, supervising, or something?"

"No, there's just me. Rangsey had some business on the Yebba Dim Day, so I'm in charge until he gets back." she smiled. "You should be happy, I'm making overtime. No more fish soup!"

I laughed. "Yes, I am. I just don't like the idea of you staying here by yourself. Especially without a phone. What if there's an emergency?"

"I'm a big girl now, Yseult. I can look after myself." she replied, her expression making it clear that was the end of the matter.

I bade her farewell and crossed the street to the bookstore. I loved the bookstores, not a lot of people frequented them in this town, and I could lose myself in the rows of books. When I had leisure time, which wasn't often since I had become Carrion's errand girl, I would spend hours in the bookstores, even when I had no money to spend. I quickly located several of the volumes Carrion had listed, all of them on the art of war and conquering. I thought for a moment, then added a few of my own selections to his, the books I chose were on diplomacy and statecraft. He might not like it, but I knew there was no way he could just steamroll his way across the islands. He would have to use subterfuge. I laughed. He was probably good at that, actually. On my way to the counter, I glanced over at a bookshelf and immediately looked away, as it held several copies of my pillow book, as well as quite a few other _illuminating_ tomes. I shook my head angrily. I would make Carrion pay for that, somehow.

I waved at Fina through the shop window as I walked by. She smiled and nodded, then returned to her sewing. My purchases securely under one arm, I decided to take the long way home, cutting through the center of town. As I rounded a corner, my pace slowed. A crowd had gathered in the town square. They were huddling around the notice board, to which a large flyer had been posted. I squeezed through, sliding through the throng until I reached the board. There was the familiar seal of House Carrion at the head of the letter. Mater Motley had issued a decree stating that she would no longer respect the Unfettered status of Idjit and other islands formerly under the control of the Carrion dynasty. We had the night to send a diplomatic envoy to the Thirteenth Tower, or we would run the risk of her displeasure. There were whispers of a war fleet amassed in her harbors, filled with stitchling warriors, waiting to be deployed to whichever islands refused to swear her fealty. So far, Idjit's relatively new and inexperienced governors had shown absolutely no intention of sending such an envoy, if for no other reason than that to Mater Motley the term "diplomatic envoy" was synonymous with the term "human sacrifice." The governor had gone so far as to issue a reply which stated that, while we wish to remain on amicable terms with the Midnight Empire, we had no intention of relinquishing control of the island to the Dowager Queen. The fate of those unlucky enough to reside on her islands was widely known; males were sent to work in the Todo mines, digging up the mud that animated her creations, and although a few "lucky" women were initiated into Mater Motley's inner circle, the Sisterhood of The Thread, most would be slaves working in her tower or serving the witches. Idjit wished to spare its residents from such a fate.

"They should just pick someone to go, some drunken scum from one of the taverns." someone said as I passed. "It'll be all our heads if they don't, you mark my words."

A murmur of assent rose from the group as it dispersed. I silently agreed. The less Mater Motley noticed us, the better.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I was born on the other side  
__Of a town ripped in two.  
__And no matter how hard I try,  
__I end up black and blue._

Carrion was thankfully absent from the house when I returned, so I set his books on the bed before removing my jacket and sitting down at the table. Xandra was sitting across from me and drinking a cup of tea.

"Rough shopping trip?" she asked?

"No, not really. I saw Fina, she's enjoying her work, which is more than most people have, so that's good." I leaned back against the chair. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, much. I think I'll be able to take over some of the chores tomorrow."

"Well, don't push yourself. If you don't feel up to it, it's fine."

Any further conversation was put on hold as Carrion entered, trailing his robe in his wake. I tilted my head to one side. I was right, it did swirl ominously.

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing, my lord. Merely admiring my workmanship."

He crossed the room and started picking through the books. When he reached the ones I had chosen, he gave me a quizzical look. "Statecraft?"

"Well, I thought they might be useful. In case the usual 'invade, slaughter, and conquer' didn't work."

Carrion stared at me blankly. "It always works."

"Of course, my lord."

He leaned over me where I sat, placing a hand on either side of me, effectively pinning me to the table in my chair. "I am a prince. Do you think I don't know anything about diplomacy?" his voice was far too quiet and controlled.

"Of course you do, my lord. But you know a lot about war as well, and you still wanted the books, so I..." the look in his eyes silenced me.

"I have not _asked_ for your opinion, have I, Yseult?"

"No, my lord. You didn't."

"And yet you still insist on deviating from my instructions. Why is that?"

I swallowed, unable to answer for fear of saying the wrong thing. Xandra's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of us. Carrion sighed, placing one hand on my shoulder in an iron grip and using the other to turn my face to him.

"You have such potential, Yseult. Do not disappoint me." his eyes were glacial. "I hate disappointment."

A loud sound broke through the crystal silence. I rose from my seat and went to the door. There were flashes of light on the water, and the sound of people yelling from above us on the hill. I heard the loud sound again, and recognized what it was. Cannon fire.

"We're under attack!"

"What?" Carrion was instantly at my side, peering out across the water. The shapes of several ships were becoming visible as they neared the island. "Those are my grandmother's."

"The governor refused to send an envoy to Gorgossium and pledge loyalty to her. She threatened military action if we didn't comply."

Carrion swore under his breath. "This complicates things immeasurably."

"This cove is difficult to see, no one has ever stumbled across us here. There's no reason why anyone would find you here."

"That's not what I meant."

We stood in silence for a moment. "I'm going up."

Carrion looked at me incredulously. "Why?"

"I need to know what's going on. I won't go into town, just to the top of the rise. No one will see me." I went back into the house to get my coat.

"I'm going with you." Carrion stated.

"No, you're not. With all due respect, Prince, if someone _does_ see me, it won't matter. I'll lose them before I return. If someone sees you, however..."

"I'll wear the hood up." Carrion said, raising the hood over his face as he spoke.

"My lord..."

"_Yseult._"

I sighed in resignation. Slipping my jacket on, I started up the path, Carrion following silently behind me. The noise of the cannons grew closer as we climbed the hill, and the ground shook slightly with each round of fire. As we approached the crest of the hill, the town came into view. The streets were teeming with people, which wasn't new, but instead of the usually ebullient cheering the sound filling the sky was that of terrified screams. There was a frenetic surge of bodies as the crowds sought to escape from whatever was causing these riots. Once again I found myself wishing for a few extra inches, my shortness putting me at a grievous disadvantage. Through a gap in the crowd I saw several beings of terrible ugliness; they looked as though they had been created from the leftover parts of some macabre quilt, and were wreaking bloody violence in the streets. Stitchlings.

That unholy harridan, Mater Motley had sent her damnable stitchlings to force us into compliance. Idjit's farcical excuse for a police force were woefully unprepared for such an attack, and there were many bodies already strewn in the gutters. I was thankful Xandra was in her bed,safe, and Fina...

_Fina!_ I choked back a sob as the terrible worry I had been suppressing once again filled my soul.

My heart began to pound in my chest as I ran down the street, cursing my own clumsiness as my heavy feet tripped me up yet again. Carrion was close behind me by this time, and I raged against him in my mind, angry at his interference. My knees gave way, and I felt him catch me as I fell. He picked me up as though I weighed nothing, shielding me against the wind and rain. I noticed he had pulled the hood of his robe up over his head, effectively disguising his well-known features. He moved with preternatural speed through the streets, I felt a moment's pity for the pedestrians who did not have the time to move out of his way, nor the chance to apologize after he knocked them down. Spinning around, he backed into the door with enough force to blow it off its hinges. I pushed away from him, and he released me with a frown. We could hear screams coming from upstairs, and Carrion followed me as I sped to the narrow staircase.

Fina was at the top of the stairs, one hand grasping desperately at the arm of the stitchling who held her, the other fending off another stitchling who was attempting to stab her. Carrion stepped around me and flew up the stairs, one large hand sending the stitchling with the rapier careening down the stairs. I stepped back as it fell with a sickening thud, several of its seams bursting and mud flowing out onto the floor. Without a second thought I took the rapier from its twitching hand and made quick work of several more of its seams. When I was through the thing was in no less than eight pieces and no longer resembled anything once living. Looking up, I saw Carrion had inserted himself in between Fina and the grotesquerie that had taken her hostage. He had picked up the repugnant thing by one hand and held it aloft, the stitchling clawing at his wrists as he squeezed. The seam around the stitchling's neck gave a nauseating cracking sound, and mud poured from the wound. Its arms dropped, lifeless. Carrion gave the thing a final violent shake before dropping it to the ground. He turned to Fina as I quickly climbed the narrow steps.

"Are you hurt, child?" he asked, not unkindly.

"N..no, more shaken than anything." she replied, a little put off by his change in demeanor. She turned to me as I swept her into my arms. "Yseult, I'm okay, I promise. Not even a scratch."

"You're coming home tonight. I won't risk leaving you here while these things are still running amok in the streets!"

She laughed, sounding slightly hysterical. "Oh, I don't intend to stay here tonight, or indeed for the foreseeable future!"

We packed a few of her things in her valise and left the shop through the broken door. Carrion raised his hood, obscuring his face, and walked closely behind us, steering us through the crowds. We took an overly circuitous route, afraid of leading any of Mater Motley's drones to the house. The secluded cove we were situated in didn't bring attention to itself, and very few actually knew of its existence. Still, I made a mental note to turn off the lights lining the latter half of the path once we reached home. Carrion took as around a final turn down an alley. Just as we were about to head the correct way home, one of the things jumped out at us from the left, catching me in the side with his weapon and sending Fina across the alley. I clutched at my side, my hand coming away red. Fina returned to my side, slipping her arm about my waist, and helped me to a sheltered corner by a refuse bin. We both watched as Carrion took the stitchling's hatchet away from it and cleaved its skull neatly in two. Dropping the hatchet, he glanced over his shoulder at where we were hiding. Fina helped me walk back out into the alleyway.

"He caught you?" he asked, meeting us halfway.

"Yes, in the side." I winced, hissing. "Damn, that hurts!"

"We need to get her to the house, quickly." Fina said.

Suddenly I found myself being carried for the second time that evening. My pride cried out in indignation, but the pain in my side quickly shushed it. We made our way down the path silently and with as much speed as we could, Carrion carefully transferring my weight from one side to the other as he moved. Fina ran ahead to alert Letheo and Xandra of the situation. I was fighting unconsciousness, and I knew Fina would take care of the lights. Sweet, sensible Fina...Fi-na...Feeeenaaa...

"Stay with me, little one." Carrion's voice cut through the blackness like steel. "If you faint now, you might not wake up. And then where would your sisters be?"

I looked up at him, the hood of his robe completely blocking his face from me. "You saved Fina's life."

"Yes, I did."

"You didn't have to. If you had let her die, then that would be one less chink in the armor someone could use against me." I waited for him to reply, but he said nothing. "Or, you could have let _me_ die, and then made Fina help you. She's the bright one, you know. Fina...Fi-na..."

"Open your eyes, girl." he shook me roughly.

I complied. "Sorry."

"I consider you to be mine, now, you know. You belong to me. So you need fear nothing, I will not tolerate anyone doing harm to what is mine."

I trembled before him, my nerves finally overtaking me. His arms supported me, effortlessly, and for the first time I was grateful for their strength. I could feel his eyes still on me, but could not bring myself to meet his gaze.

"Don't fight me, Yseult." he said at last. "Just obey me, that's all I ask. You, your sisters, I will take care of everything, _if you do as I say._"

"Yes, my lord." I replied, to tired to think.

"Good girl. Now rest. You're no use to me dead."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_This chapter's lyrics:  
Rusty the Skatemaker-Rasputina  
__Hedwig's Lament-Hedwig and The Angry Inch_


	6. It brings prayers

A/N: You know, I almost feel guilty about the intervals between updates, because it's not as if I'm writing these chapters slowly over a period of days. I sit down for a solid block of three hours or so and write them. Sometimes longer. I can't just start and then go to sleep with it unfinished. But I usually do this in the middle of the night, and then spend the next day sleeping, and I can't afford to do that all the time, so scattershot writing it is.

I _have_ been neglecting Letheo's development(I didn't even know he'd be making an appearance in this story until he showed up on the beach, I was too daunted by the thuaz problem), thanks for bringing that to my attention. But with Yseult wounded, she'll be around the house a bit more in this chapter, which gives me the perfect opportunity for some more character interaction. Letheo's been pretty mistreated in his life, it seems to me, and not everyone is as perfect and understanding as Candy.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Oh, woe is he,  
__Unable to see,  
__In front of his face,  
__A mistreated machine  
__Can start acting mean  
__It can crack up all over the place._

It took a lot of pleading and some vague threats on the part of our governor to secure enough military support from the Grand Court of the Hours, as well as a dubious contract with Rojo Pixler, to bring the stitchling invasion under control. It was the most terrifying week in recent memory for Idjit. The stitchlings, lacking any sort of leadership, had gone for wholesale slaughter. In the end it had taken a battalion comprised of companies from several islands, as well as the rather generous assembly of soldiers Mr. Pixler had sent from his personal guard, to finally put an end to the destruction. That, of course, meant rending all the stitchlings limb from limb and setting their warships aflame. There was no talk of negotiating with them, the stitchlings seemed to have no instinct for self preservation and fought like demons. The clean-up effort was barely underway, and progressing slowly. The streets were full of mud and blood, and the morgue near to overflowing with casualties, military and civilian alike. Once the stitchlings had been dispatched, the various islands had recalled their soldiers. Only Pixler's guards had remained, as per the contract.

While most of us were grateful for their help, the continued occupation by the Commexo military was unsettling, as were the multitude of new marketing devices and high-tech wonders Pixler was installing on the island. For a town that had always been happily behind the times, the sight of giant-screen billboards flashing advertisements for the Panacea as peddled by the infamous Kid, as well as a huge new supermarket topped by several searchlights that circled endlessly into the sky, filled us with the same dread as the sight of Mater Motley's warships on the horizon. We had driven out one dictator, only to be occupied by another anyway. Granted, I didn't think Pixler wanted to turn us into an army of personal laborers to be executed at his leisure, but a single glance at the Commexo Kid posters wallpapering any given street suggested that enslavement was the ultimate goal. It was just enslavement of a different kind.

The wound on my side was long, but thankfully thin, and with a sterilized needle and some good thread, Fina was able to close it up quickly and efficiently. Carrion had excused himself from the room while she had done it, and through the pain of being sewn back together, I felt some amusement at the discovery of a chink in _his_ armor. Fina's stitches were straight and even, but I would still have a scar across my hip that would measure a good seven inches. Getting out of bed was out of the question for the first few days after the attack, and while the battle raged on the hill, I lived in fear we would be discovered in our cove. There were a few times someone had begun to come down the hill, whether it was stitchling or soldier, I never knew. We couldn't afford to be found by either, and when those incidents occurred, Carrion would disappear for a few minutes, take care of the intruder, and calmly resume whatever he had been doing.

I found my attitude toward him shifting slightly. Oh, he was still a terrifying bastard, without a doubt, but he had saved my sister and myself. I began to understand our symbiotic relationship. In the instant he had saved Fina, I would have followed him into Hell itself. I was indebted to him forever, and he knew it. The power it gave him over me was daunting, but as long as I obeyed him, I didn't think he'd use it against me. I sensed a shift in him, as well. No doubt he was pleased by my compliancy, and he had meant what he said. As long as I obeyed him, he would take care of everything. I could see it in the way he diligently administered the green thuaz to the Letheo. On the rare occasions the beast thing did not follow orders to the letter, the liquid he so desperately needed was withheld until he writhed in pain, as punishment. So long as Letheo did as he was told, Carrion made sure he did not revert back into his beast form, and so it was with my sisters and I. Fina no longer rolled her eyes or quirked an eyebrow when asked to do something for him, and though Xandra was still too frightened of Carrion to actually speak to him, she no longer hid behind her curtains or spent all evening outside. Of course, it could be she was more afraid of the remaining nightmares on the beach than she was of Carrion, but I think she felt put more at ease seeing that while he would never be mindful of his servants, he would at least treat them with a benign indifference when they were obedient.

"I'm going to market." Fina announced, the day after Pixler had started his occupation.

"What?" I looked up from Xandra's bed. "Is it safe yet?"

"It's fine, and even if it weren't, we need food." she replied, grabbing a canvas bag.

"I'm going with you." Xandra said.

"Xandra, no. That I will not allow, you need to rest." I said.

"Yseult, I've been fine for days, and I could really use the exercise. Plus if I stay, Letheo is going to tell me the same story he's told me every day since I've been sick." she grinned at the beast boy, who stuck his tongue out at her. "Maybe you'll think of a new one, Letheo?"

"Yeah, and maybe you'll stop mistaking me for a housemaid and actually help out for a change!" Letheo replied, throwing one of Xandra's dresses at her.

I stood up. "I'll go, I'm not hurt as all that."

"No, you stay here and start preparing dinner for tonight. We should have one more chicken, and some of the marinade from last night." she kissed my cheek as she pulled on her jacket. "Letheo, will you chop the vegetables, please?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

"Thank you."

I sat down on the bed, leaning my forearms on my knees. "I don't feel right about the two of you going about alone. And the fact that Pixler's soldiers are prowling the streets doesn't exactly alleviate my unease."

Carrion closed the book he'd been reading, one of the ones I had chosen I noted with satisfaction, and sat up. "I'll accompany them."

Xandra blanched. Fina put her hand on her hip and looked at me expectantly.

"All right, I suppose that would be better than you being alone." I conceded.

Carrion pulled on the gloves Fina had made during the time she'd been home, and twitched the hood up over his face. I watched as the three of them filed out of the house and the curtain fell back against the doorframe. For the first time, I found myself alone in the house with the beast boy. Letheo had already taken the large knife down and was chopping the peppers into small, thin strips. I walked over to the counter opposite him and started preparing the roasting pan. Glancing over at him every few minutes, I reassured myself he was still quite human, for now. _How long ago did Carrion give him his medicine? How often did he need it. Where was it?_ I remembered Carrion pocketing the vial as he left, and cursed under my breath. Letheo looked up and quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. I smiled and returned to the task at hand, removing the package of sectioned chicken from the icebox.

I tried to repress a shudder as I picked up one of the chicken thighs. I hated having to pull off the plucked skin myself, and had grown accustom to delegating that task to the beast boy. I wondered briefly if the scales that surfaced on him before his "change" had the same gelatinous film over them that fish scales had, or if they felt more like the poultry skin in my hands, having formed from skin themselves. Peeling back the bird's slimy epidermis, I glanced sideways at Letheo. "So, how did you come to be in Carrion's service, Letheo?"

His face was expressionless as he looked at me, and for a while I thought he was going to ignore my question. I hadn't exactly been warm to him since he arrived, and I got the feeling he didn't like me much. He probably got on best with Xandra, having been around her significantly more than Fina and I, though even Fina seemed to have developed at least a superficial comradery with him.

"I want to be an assassin, and Lord Midnight knows how to kill people." he said, at length.

"Why do you want to be an assassin?"

"Do you have to ask? The power. I want to look at someone and know that _I_ get to decide when they die."

"You're too young to be talking like that."

"I grew up quick." he replied, looking down.

"You're not worried about being killed yourself?" I asked. "It is a rather dangerous occupation."

"Not if you're good."

"And are you good?"

Letheo looked at me seriously. "I plan to be the best. Why bother doing anything if you can't be the best?"

"Well, I can't argue with that logic." I turned away from him, unable to bear his eyes on me. I placed the newly skinned pieces of meat into the roasting pan and began sprinkling them liberally with the marinade Fina had prepared. I was conscious of Letheo continually glancing over at me. Finally he put down his knife and walked over to where I stood.

"Is there something wrong, Letheo?" I asked, taking an involuntary step to the side.

"I don't know, is there?" he asked, taking a step closer to me and closing the gap I had created. I stepped back again, and he advanced again, until I was trapped in the corner of the kitchen. "Why are you trying to get me to talk to you?"

"I was just making conversation, I haven't really gotten to know you..."

"Gotten to know me? You don't want to get to know me, what are you _really_ trying to do?" he followed me as I turned and backed along the counter.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I see the look in your eyes when I'm on the cusp of the transformation. I disgust you." he stared at me with contempt. I had never seen him look angry before, but then again, I had never really _looked_ at him that closely. "You think I'm unnatural."

I couldn't lie to him.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I really don't mean to be unkind."

"No one _means_ it, yet somehow everyone manages it." he shrugged off the hand I tried to place on his shoulder. "I don't need your pity."

I returned to the roasting pan on the counter and finished applying the marinade. I could hear Letheo as he resumed chopping the vegetables, his strokes heavy and angry. He scooped up his vegetables and walked over to me, dropping them into the pan with a vigorous shake of his hands. Several went flying about the kitchen. This time I did not step back, but looked him in the eye.

"Don't think for a minute that I buy your act." he said. "I know what you're doing, and it won't work."

I couldn't think what to say to that, so I stared in dumb silence as he took his leave of me, choosing instead to wander around the perimeter of the house until his master returned. I tried to read in order to pass the time, but my mind was too agitated to concentrate for long. I pulled the chicken out of the oven as soon as it was tender enough and set out five place settings, a trick since the table was both small and square. Normally Letheo ate off to the side by himself, but I wanted to call a truce, so to speak. I _had_ been unfair to him because he was different, and even though I was extremely uncomfortable around him, that was my deal.

Fina, Xandra, and Carrion arrived before the chicken had cooled completely, to my relief. I had spent my remaining time imagining all sorts of horrible things happening to my sisters, and had worked myself into quite a state. Fina put away the groceries, with Xandra's help, while Carrion sat at the table. Letheo had followed him in, and if he was surprised that there was a place set for him at the table, he did not show it. I had managed to fit everyone by squeezing Fina and myself onto one side of the table, and she gave me a curious look. I shook my head. _Don't ask._ Dinner passed without incident, the usual table conversation about goings on in the town. Fina had closed Rangsey's shop, Carrion had helped her board up the window, and sent word to him about what had happened, though he had doubtless already heard of the attack. The tavern was closed, no notice as to when it would be opened again, so when I was able, I'd have to go looking for other employment.

Xandra and Letheo cleared away the dishes as Carrion returned to his book. Fina took my arm and led me outside. We still hadn't turned the lights on, we didn't need Pixler's spies nosing around our cove. Better if they didn't know we were there. Fina and I walked up the path to the small, flat space where Xandra usually hung the wash, and sat down.

"What's going on with Letheo?" she asked.

"We kind of had a fight while you were gone."

"That's obvious. About what?"

"He doesn't like me, which is understandable. I haven't exactly been nice to him."

"You haven't exactly been civil to him." she pointed out.

"I know, I know. I can't help it, it's just so...weird."

"You should be nicer to him, he has more than enough reasons to hate you as it is."

"What do you mean?"

"He's worried that you're usurping his position in Carrion's favor." Fina explained.

"What? Why would he think that?"

"Letheo figures that with Carrion being so cut off from his followers and empire, _he's_ the new right-hand man, so to speak. And _you_ are a threat to that."

"I an in no way, shape, or form Carrion's right-hand man. I'd give anything for us all to be as far from the two of them as possible."

"I know that, but Letheo understands his hold on his place is precarious at best. He's betrayed Carrion in the past, and he knows he's going to be punished for a long time." Fina sighed and looked out over the water. "This _is_ all your fault, you know."

I looked at her. "What?"

"I wish you had left him on the beach. Then we could have left when things got bad. We could have been on a completely different island, living in blissful anonymity."

I knew which him she was referring to, though many things had washed up on that beach that had affected our family. "I know. I'm sorry I've dragged us all into this."

"You're supposed to be the responsible one, Yseult. You're supposed to be the one looking out for the finances, making sure we have food, taking care of Xandra when she's sick." Fina's voice had taken on an accusatory quality. I saw tears forming in her eyes and felt my heart being sliced into thin strips. Fina had shouldered far more than her share of the burden for my mistake, and it killed me.

"I'm sorry." I said, aware of how utterly inadequate the words were. "I wish I knew a way out for us. A way out for you and Xandra."

"There isn't one. We're stuck until he's dead or we're dead or both."

We sat together on the beach in silence for a long time after that, too depressed to move, until we saw a couple of black shapes slowly slithering toward us across the sand. Fina shuddered in disgust.

"When are they going to get rid of those things?"

I stood, brushing the sand off myself. "Come one, let's go back inside."


	7. And songs of love

A/N: So...my computer died and I had to get a new AC adapter for it. That's my excuse for taking this long with this chapter. Okay, in reality it's that I was having a bit of writer's block, and I was sick for a while, and the SuperBowl was this weekend. Go Patriots! I also auditioned for the local summer Renaissance Festival, and will be going to various workshops and orientations and what-have-you, but I'll try to be diligent about updating this story. I'll try to go for a chapter a week, give or take a few days. I know where I want it to go, but I'm exhausted just thinking about the legwork it'll take to get there. I admit I've been spending time I should have devoted to finishing this chapter working instead on chapters you won't see for quite a while yet, mainly because they deal with where certain relationships are going and I needed to write them to keep from getting frustrated at how long my characters seem willing to take in progressing to the next level. But then, all good things to those who wait...  
Remember, all Yseult's information is second or third hand at best, so don't be too quick to believe whatever she hears. Plus, with Idjit being firmly a Night Isle, there are certain prejudices against all things Day.

-

_You can never be too  
__Rich, or too thin.  
__The blood has run out,  
__Fangs ruin any cute pout._

I stood in line with about twenty others, ranging from about 15 to about 35 years of age, all waiting to apply for work at Pixler's giant supermarket. We all wore the sunglasses normally reserved for trips to Daylight Isles, in order to reduce the glare from the store's millions of lights. Everything was illuminated, even the walls. It made my stomach churn. What sort of diabolical mind would wish to transform Night into Day? Did he go around setting up huge structures on the Nonce to block out _their_ light? I avoided looking at the regiment of soldiers marching down the street as they passed us, their high-collared grey uniforms pressed and their pewter-grey boots shined to gleaming as they stepped.

Finally the doors opened and we started filing inside. We were divided into four lines, presumably to make it go faster. As I reached the head of the line, I was given a bright yellow form to fill out and directed to a small waiting area where several others were already working on their applications. I sat down in one of the uncomfortably hard chairs, clipboard in hand, and began answering the questions. It was pretty much a basic application, all the usual questions; Name, age, gender, position desired, hours available. But there were some questions that made me feel uneasy. _Have you ever sought the help of a shaman or witchdoctor? Do you now, or have you ever, been in the possession of books of magic and/or spellcraft? Do you harbor any strong religious beliefs toward any of the following; A'zo, Cha, the Izabella?_ The feeling of dread in my stomach was quickly gaining a foothold. Pixler had been attempting to force his particular brand of atheism on the islands, having already outlawed magic books and religious practices in Commexo. I would hate to see the book burnings taking place on Idjit as they were reported to have taken place in that city. It was positively archaic; book burnings, witch hunts, picking and choosing which forms of magic were useful to his causes and then twisting and sanitizing them, packaging them in the more "acceptable" form of his Panacea, and destroying everything else. I prayed I would never have to meet Rojo Pixler in person, for I wasn't sure I would be able to control my disgust.

"Next!"

I stood and followed a stout, middle aged woman into a small room adjacent to the waiting area. She was dressed in a uniform similar to the grey one the soldiers wore, but a white lab coat replaced the fitted grey jacket of the military. She gestured for me to sit in another hard chair in front of her gleaming chrome desk. I handed her my clip board and she began reading my application, looking down through the spectacles perched on her rather stubby nose. I sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting for her to speak.

"Miss...Najera, is it?"

"Yes."

"Says here you've been to see the town shaman twice in the last year." she said.

"Yes, the first time I was very sick and the second I had cut myself rather badly with a kitchen knife. My finger needed reattatching." I replied.

"Why didn't you take Panacea?" she asked.

"People in this town have always gone to the shaman when they're unwell. He's a very good one, our shaman. I'd never taken Panacea before, and what with my finger hanging off, I decided to go for a treatment I was more familiar and comfortable with." I answered, trying to hide my disdain at such a stupid question.

"So you're afraid of change?"

"Not necessarily. I just don't understand the concept of change for change's sake. If something works, why change it?" I simply smiled at her.

"I see. Well, Miss Najera, I don't think you're quite the kind of person we're looking for." she stood, and offered her hand. "Better luck elsewhere."

I stood and shook her hand. "Thank you. May I have my application back?"

"No, we like to hang on to these."

"Why?" I asked, suspicious of anyone who wanted to 'hang on' to a file about me.

"Well, you never know, something might come up we could...use you for." she replied, her expression betraying nothing.

"I see. Thank you for your time, then."

I walked out of the office and past the other hopefuls, glad that I had decided to use an alias instead of my real name. On my way home, I passed The Frolicking Badger, noting the boarded-up windows and heavy chain locking the door. I briefly wondered where Serais had gone looking for work, she hadn't been in line at the supermarket. Maybe that young man had taken her in, although it was more likely she was peddling her wares in a nearby alley.

"No luck at the supermarket?" Xandra asked as I entered.

"No, they're looking for highly suggestible drones." I replied.

"Wonder why they didn't take you, then." Letheo commented. I ignored him, but I saw Xandra give him a disapproving stare.

"Now, now, Letheo, that wasn't polite." Carrion remarked. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, one boot braced against the edge of the table top, while Fina diligently stitched the cuff of a white shirt he was wearing. "Apologize to the woman who so graciously took you in."

Letheo scowled at the floor. "I apologize, Yseult."

"It's okay, don't worry about it." I replied quickly, wanting to avoid making even more of an enemy of the boy. "Did Fina make you a new shirt, Lord?"

"No, I'm merely being useful." he said flatly.

"He's the same size as one of my customers. I have to finish the alterations on these shirts for next week and I couldn't bring the muslin form home with me, of course." Fina said, finishing the cuff and snipping the thread with a small pair of silver scissors she kept on a cord about her neck.

"The work of a disenfranchised Prince is never done, it seems." Carrion said, unhappily. "Now I can add 'dressmaker's dummy' to my list of skills."

"Just think of it as one more thing I am indebted to you for, my lord." Fina said.

"_This_, you will never be able to repay me for, I feel."

As dismissive as his tone may have been on the surface, it was becoming increasingly apparent that Carrion was getting more and more bored, which was beyond dangerous for everyone. I knew it was only a matter of time before he demanded we enact whatever plan he had been formulating in that head of his, and there would be nothing we could do but follow.

-

_They know its their duty to  
__Be countess in their  
__Hearts, and  
__Minds they have to whisper,  
__See in them a sister._

Rangsey had returned from the Yebba once he had received Fina's message. He had purchased a new pane of glass for the shop window, and had asked Fina to return to work as soon as he had finished setting everything back in order. I went with her, I wanted to talk to Rangsey.

"Ah, Fina, there you are." Rangsey's warm smile greeted us as we entered the shop. He had done a fine job of sweeping the place clean, and the window looked perfect. Fina removed her jacket and took the broom from him, making her way to the back staircase to clean up a bit. "And Yseult, good to see you."

Thank you, Rangsey, it's nice to see you, too." I sat down on one of the stools usually reserved for customers. "Listen, I need to talk to you about Fina's living arrangement."

"Of course, I understand. I was very upset when I heard about the attack."

"I'm glad that you're back, I like knowing she's not alone in this building, but I would prefer it she returned home on the weekends."

Rangsey rubbed his chin, the grizzled white beard lending him a grandfatherly look that was contradicted by the shrewdness of his black eyes. "I suppose she can take her work home with her on the weekends, the shop is closed and we usually end up getting a jump on the next week, but she doesn't need to be here to do that."

"It kills me to think what might have happened if..." I paused, almost saying _we_, "I hadn't arrived when I had."

"It's alright, I understand what it is to worry about a child, even if you're only sisters."

I held my smile in place. Only sisters? _Only?_ Rangsey turned to Fina as she returned with the broom in hand.

"Fina, Yseult would prefer it if you would spend the weekends at your home. Can you keep up on your work if you do that?" he asked.

"Of course, it would be no problem at all." Fina replied.

"Good, then I have no problem with it, either. Now if you'll excuse us, Yseult, my seamstress and I have a lot to catch up on."

I said my goodbyes and left the shop, the bell tinkling at my exit. I began walking down the avenue, then paused, glancing at the bookshop across the street. _I wonder..._

-

_Morning has come,  
__Now they've flown,  
__What have you learned  
__From what has been shown?_

It was with some pleasure amid the harsh lights of Pixler's billboards that I sent up a thankful prayer to A'zo, Cha, and Mama Izabella that the bookseller had needed an assistant. He knew me fairly well, considering the amount of time I spent there in the past. No doubt he expected I would spend most of my wages in the bookstore, but my days of picking up a stack of books on a whim were gone. All my money was carefully saved and put away for groceries and cloth and thread and a new door and candles. The candles themselves were a particularly delicious piece of irony. Now that Pixler had set up his huge electrical monstrosities all over the island, we could siphon as much electricity from the town as we needed. However, the need for secrecy and the fear of being caught meant instead of upgrading our lights and appliances, we were now returning to candles and seaweed for light and fuel. Carrion was devouring the books I had purchased, and we were going through candles at an alarming rate.

I was picking up some more candles at a small market(I flatly refused to patronize Pixler's unholy store), when the new television screen behind the counter caught my eye. The image on the screen was familiar enough, the meeting hall of the Grand Court of the Hours, but the group of people at the center of what appeared to be some sort of press conference were unfamiliar to me. They were a mixed group, some human, some not, I thought I saw a Sea Skipper, but that couldn't be right.

"What's all that about?" I asked the shopkeeper.

"That girl, the one everyone says is from the Hereafter, apparently she's claiming to be partly of royal Abaratian blood."

"_What?_"

"The Council have set her up as some sort of figurehead. They're encouraging the Hours to rally around her and her cause, whatever that is. They say she's an angel of change, which sounds kind of pretentious, if you ask me, but you know how the Day dwellers are. I think it has something to do with Finnegan, he seems to be the mastermind behind her rise to importance in the Council's eyes. They say he never leaves her side."

I listened intently, this information would be of great interest to Carrion. It surprised me, nothing had been heard about her in weeks, and suddenly she's a celebrity. More than that, she's an icon. _An angel of change._ It didn't bode well. I took my candles and headed home.

Xandra was hanging the wash outside when I arrived. "Hi, Yseult. How'd your talk with Rangsey go?"

"It went well, Fina will be spending the weekends at home." I replied. "Is Carrion inside?"

"No, he went down to the beach. I don't know if you should disturb him, Letheo stayed behind. I think he wants to be alone."

"I'll risk it. I have some news he'll be greatly interested in."

I left the candles with Xandra and started down toward the beach. He was sitting on a large rock, one arm draped casually over his bent knees. He turned as I approached.

"What do you want?" he inquired, sharply. "Can't you see I'm meditating?"

"I apologize for the intrusion, my lord, but I've heard news about the girl." I could see his interest was piqued immediately.

"What of her?"

"The Council has installed her as some kind of political figurehead. Finnegan Hob is with her all the time, and they say he's behind her sudden rise from obscurity. He has her claiming she's Abaratian royalty, and the Council apparently believes her."

"She's revealed her secret to him?" he asked quietly. "Of course, she did, why wouldn't she..."

"My lord?"

"Did you find out what proof she offered the Council to support her claim, or what the Council has planned for her?"

"No, my lord, all I know is that they're trying to get the islands of Day to form an alliance with her as their symbol. There's talk of reestablishing the old republic." I replied.

"How audacious of them, my grandmother won't stand for that." he said. "They're courting another war between Night and Day."

"Another war? Because of one deluded girl and a manipulative halfbreed?"

"Such a nuisance, that one. I wonder if all women from her world are as exasperating as she is."

"The girl? So she really is from the Hereafter?" I asked.

"Yes, she is." Carrion replied, quietly.

"What's so special about her, my lord? If you don't mind my asking..." I added quickly, as he turned to stare at me. "It's just she seems to cause so much trouble, I'm curious about why everyone's so keen on some girl barely older than Xandra."

"She has the soul of my Princess inside her." he said, softly. "I don't know how it came to rest there, but Boa and this girl share one body. Which is why I must find her."

I was speechless for a moment, as the implications of his words sank in. If the Princess Boa was still alive, in some form, and had returned, the possibilities for the Council and the Daylight Isles were endless. She could bring Mater Motley down, if she named the Carrions as the architects behind her demise. Perhaps she already had. That would, of course, also effectively put a stop to whatever plans Carrion himself had for his return. I understood why this girl was so dangerous to him, why he was so desperate to get his hands on her.

"You wish to silence her, my lord?"

"No, I wish to speak to her. This girl and I have unfinished business, and I cannot rest until it is resolved." he said. "I have to find her, separate her from her friends, somehow. I know if I can just get her alone again, If I can speak with her again..."

"But if she's with Finnegan, won't he..."

"_Finnegan._" the word was cold and full of spite. "Yes, the perfect prince will undoubtedly woo the girl and charm her, and with Boa inside her she will fall into his arms without so much as blink."

"You mean to steal her and marry her yourself, then, my lord?" I asked, sounding indifferent. I was indifferent. I was.

"I mean to force her to acknowledge what there is between us." he began speaking quietly, as if to himself. "She won't deny it, no, not again. Not after everything I've done for her, she won't deny it again. I'll rip Boa out of her, if I have to..."

I got the feeling he was revealing things to me he hadn't meant to, and I held perfectly still from the fear he would remember who he was speaking to, and become enraged. He stared at his clenched fists a moment longer, then stood, looking out over the water.

"This time, things will be different. She won't deny me again, not this time..."


	8. It brings the chatter

A/N: I've been very, very, very sick for the past couple of weeks, so I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. My fever-addled brain was having a lot of trouble coming up with much of anything beyond the following;

"_OH MY GOD! THE PAIN!" screamed Yseult. She took the large kitchen knife away from Letheo and stabbed herself repeatedly in the stomach, hoping to end her suffering once and for all. Letheo did nothing to stop her, after all, with Yseult out of the way, he would be free to rise in prominence as Carrion's advisor, and take up with Yseult's pretty sisters. Carrion walked into the house, noticed Yseult's lifeless corpse, and sat down on the bed, book in hand.  
_"_Well," he said, "this is unfortunate. Now who will help me regain my throne and at the same time heal the wounds inflicted upon my writhing heart by Boa and Candy, and finally show me what it is to be loved? I suppose I could always have her skinned and filled with Todo mud, but..."  
__Fina and Xandra brought in the laundry from outside. Xandra shrieked at the sight of her exsanguinated sister, but was quickly silenced by Letheo's suggestive eyebrow wiggle. They retreated behind the sheets in Xandra's corner. Carrion noticed Fina, realizing how much more capable and attractive she was than the poor soul now cooling on the kitchen floor.  
_"_Fina, how are you at statecraft?" he asked. Fina merely smiled._

I have too much respect for you all to subject you to tripe like that, so I took my time recuperating in order to write a chapter with at least a little more depth than the average Harlequin romance novel. There's a major plot point to take care of in this chapter, but I promise there'll be good character interaction in the next one. I did, however, throw you all a 'bone', so to speak, in the form of a personal revelation for Yseult.  
This chapter took forever for me to finish because I was listening to music while writing it, and kept playing air drums to the songs. It's tricky to play an air instrument and type at the same time, if you've never tried it.

-

_I fell for your jive and I took you in,  
__Now all you got to offer me is a fifth of gin.  
__Why don't you do right,  
__Like some other men do?_

In some ways, working at the bookshop was as tedious as working at the tavern. I was still on my feet all day, and I still had to deal with discourteous customers, who were quick to anger if I was not fast enough or we didn't have the book they wanted in stock. And if my service was prompt and friendly, there was no tip in it for me, hardly even a "Thank you." Without tips, I wasn't making as much as I had waitressing, but it was a trade-off. Not many people came into the bookstore and got drunk, then felt me up. For which I was intensely thankful. Lazlo, the proprietor, was much easier to get along with than Aaber had been, but any employer who didn't expect me to wear revealing clothing and flirt with customers was a keeper in my eyes. Plus the close proximity to where Fina worked greatly reduced my anxiety about her. Both shops had large windows facing the street, and we could wave to each other while we worked.

It was nice to get out of the house again, finally. Things hadn't exactly gotten worse between Letheo and I, but that was mainly due to our mutual avoidance of each other. In some ways, being in Letheo's presence was more upsetting to me than being in Carrion's. At least with Carrion I usually knew where I stood, which was in the position of errand girl. I had no idea what Letheo was so worried about, I clearly wasn't as close to Carrion as he was, if you could call anyone 'close' to the Dark Prince. It didn't matter, in any case. The degree of affinity was already far too close for my taste, as if there wasn't enough to be worried about.

The local paper had been running articles for days about Pixler's latest plans for the islands, namely a new set of censorship codes, which he hoped to enact immediately. To everyone's surprise, Idjit's notoriously ineffectual governor was refusing to discuss the proposed codes with Mr. Pixler. Rumor was the governor's stalling maneuvers had infuriated Pixler so much that he was sending additional forces to the island to carry out the changes regardless of the local opinions. I bought a copy of the paper one evening while I was running a quick errand for Carrion before my shift at the bookstore. I thought if nothing else, he might find it interesting for a moment. Anything to break his habit of pacing up and down the shoreline, muttering to himself about the girl and brooding for hours. I was in luck when I returned to the house; I had managed to arrive during one of the rare moments when Carrion came in to eat. I dropped the paper in front of him on the table.

"If there are any special books you think you'll be needing in the future, now's the time to tell me."

"What do you mean?" he asked, picking up the paper in one hand and skimming the front page.

"Pixler has issued a list of books he's trying to get the governor to ban. Mostly books on magic and religion, but there are a few books on revolutionary philosophy on the list, as well."

Carrion's lips curled in a sneer. "The man is an idiot. I'd think he'd form an alliance with my grandmother if he weren't so terrified of her."

"I don't think he'll succeed in getting them banned. The governor may be many things, but an atheist isn't one of them. I don't think we've ever had such a devout governor before. He won't support Pixler's plan to eradicate the people's faith."

"You overestimate the governor's strength of character. With the right amount of _persuasion_, the man would strike the first match himself. I believe he has a young daughter, a fact of which I am sure Mr. Pixler is aware." Carrion let the comment hang for a moment. "I think you should bring those books here, where they'll be safe. I know Rojo Pixler, he's a dangerous man when it comes to his reformations."

"More dangerous than you?" I asked.

"You're not that stupid, Yseult, don't act like it. I appreciate destruction more than most, but book burnings are a terrible waste of knowledge, and I do not hold with stupidity." he took hold of my chin, the first physical contact I'd had with him since the night of his grandmother's attack, and looked at me seriously. "Bring the books here. We'll make good use of them, I think."

He released me and I stood there for a moment. I had forgotten how cold his touch was. It sent a chill from the base of my skull all the way down to my toes, and not in a bad way. I felt a blush creeping up my neck.

"You'd better leave, if you don't want to be late to work." Carrion remarked. He gave me an arrogant smirk, as though he'd guessed the reason behind my hesitation. I grabbed my jacket, pulling it on as I rushed out the door. The night air was warmer than his hands, and I breathed deeply to clear my head. _No, no, no, no, no..._ I would not give him any more power over me than he already had. Absolutely not. The whole idea was completely ridiculous, anyway. I resolved not to give it another thought, even as I involuntarily glanced over my shoulder at the house.

_This is so inconvenient..._

_-_

_Oh so sadly,  
__We examined hands burned badly  
__By that which no man fears more.  
__The terrible flames of  
__All that remains of  
__My little shirtwaist fire._

I have always felt my looks to be painfully average, so I was understandably shocked when people began pointing at me and whispering as I walked down the street. The cause for their rudeness became clear to me as I turned the corner and saw my face on one of Pixler's billboards, along with about twenty others, under the heading "**_Forget primitive superstitions, try the Panacea!_**" A footnote stated that those appearing on the billboards were wanted for 'questioning' by Pixler's appointed government officials. Beneath my picture was the alias I had given on my application. My suspicions about their motives had been confirmed. It was only the beginning, but similar things had happened in the past, and my memory was not as short as most.

Pixler was fostering mistrust in the hopes of creating a witch hunt. Those who were proving resistant to his methods of control were being singled out. I suspected strongly that the community as a whole would be encouraged to ostracize and report neighbors who displayed an unwillingness to submit. After that, it would take hardly a push on his part to turn us against one another, and the lack of cohesiveness would leave the island incapable of fending off a full-scale invasion. Idjit was losing the charm that made it famous. It was quickly becoming another Commexo, which was not somewhere I wanted to be. Maybe it was time to think about moving the family elsewhere. Of course, now I had Carrion and Letheo to deal with as well. It complicated the situation immeasurably.

A squad of soldiers marching in formation passed me as I walked down the avenue to the bookstore. I avoided looking at them as I ducked into the shop. There was no tinkling bell in Lazlo's shop, he found them annoying. I pulled out the chair and sat down at the front desk, settling in for a long and most likely uneventful shift. Lazlo had a rather modern register, which made my job easier, so I spent most of the time between ringing up customers' purchases by reading some of the books on magic that Pixler was attempting to ban. I don't know why such a petty act of resistence made me so happy, but it did, so I indulged. I was about halfway through an interesting study of Jibbaratian witchcraft when Lazlo emerged from the back room.

"What are you doing?" he asked, pulling the book from my hands. "Don't read that where Pixler's soldiers can see you."

"Why not? They're still legal."

"Only barely. You know it's just a technicality. He'll have them banned inside of a week, just watch. In the meantime, keep that out of sight. I'm moving all the 'questionable' material to the back room, so you're in charge up here."

"Okay." I nodded. "Why don't you just get rid of them, if you're so worried?"

"Get rid of them? You want me to dispose of _books?_" he sounded incredulous. "You know me better than that. Just because this knowledge is going to be banned doesn't mean I won't make sure it's available to the right kind of people."

I nodded again as he disappeared into the back of the shop. There were no customers to keep me busy, so I picked up a book off of the history shelves and thumbed through it. A shout from outside caught my attention, and I glanced out the window. Fina was standing just outside Rangsey's store, peering down the street. I caught her attention and raised my eyebrow in a questioning gesture. She shrugged and went back into the shop. I returned to reading, only to be disturbed a few minutes later by the sound of marching soldiers. Closing the book, I rose from my chair and stepped closer to the window. There was a squad of soldiers in their grey uniforms standing in the street. The squad leader gave a command and they turned en masse toward the bookstore. I stepped out of sight and pressed against the wall beside the window, not wanting to be seen. Another set of instructions were barked out by the squad leader, and my stomach twisted nervously as an oppressive silence descended.

Half a second later, there was a deafening roar and I felt as though my bones would shake apart. The window exploded inward, showering everything with tiny shards of glass. I shielded my face with my arms, wincing as the glass cut my forearms. Dropping to the floor, I crawled over to the desk and hid beneath it in the space between my chair and the plank of wood that made the front of the desk. Soldiers began rushing into the shop, through both the door and the newly unobstructed window. I heard Lazlo yelling as the soldiers began pulling down the bookshelves, confiscating all religious and magic materials and dumping everything else in a large pile in the center of the shop. I shrank back under the desk, praying no one would see me. Lazlo was arguing with one of the soldiers. The soldier struck Lazlo in the temple with the butt of his weapon. I muffled a cry in my hand and turned away, crawling as far under the desk as I could. One of the soldiers was walking around the desk, his boots shined to such a polish I could see my own frightened face in their reflection. He paused by the chair, pulling it out. I held my breath for an eternity while I waited for him to move. The soldier's impassive face appeared before me, and I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood. I was forced to my feet and led to the back of the shop where Lazlo was laying unconscious, his feet bound and his hands tied behind his back. There was a trickle of blood running down the side of his face. I started scanning the shop as my hands and feet were tied in a similar fashion by the guard who had taken me from my hiding place, berating myself for the tears threatening to form in my eyes.

After he finished restraining me, the guard rejoined the other soldiers, who were dousing the books with something pungent. I started coughing from the fumes as I watched one of the soldiers light a match and set the books on fire. One of them said something, and the others laughed as they left. I started looking around as I frantically worked at my bindings, desperate to find an escape. The heat was becoming intolerable, and the shop was rapidly filling with smoke. I glanced over at Lazlo, he was still out cold, and there was no way I could have carried him, even unbound. _No time for guilt now, Yseult, just worry about keeping yourself alive. _

My bindings weren't going to give, so I flipped over onto my stomach and began inching my way along the floor, heading along the edge of the room. I could make it to the front on the shop, where the large broken window was alleviating the smoke congestion, but I would have to squeeze between the wall and the edge of the inferno, getting dangerously close to the flames, in order to do so. I kept my head down as I pressed against the wall, my progress agonizingly slow. There were sounds coming from the street, I could hear people screaming. _I'm in here! Please, God, someone find me!_

A sharp staccato of gunfire cut through the screams and the only thing I heard was the loud crackle of the fire. I was almost at the narrow point between the fire and the wall that was my only passage to freedom. My face felt like the skin had already burned off and I couldn't tell if blood or sweat was pouring down my cheeks. I turned my face to the wall and coughed, the heat burning my lungs as I pushed inexorably toward the front of the store. An acrid scent his my nostrils, and I realized with a start that it was my hair beginning to singe. I let out a frustrated cry as I pushed myself forward as quickly as possible, pain erupting along my back. Once I cleared the narrow passage I rolled toward the window, small pieces of glass embedding themselves in my flesh. My eyes stung as I opened them, tears blurring my vision. I pressed my back to the wall just below the window and pushed myself into a sitting position. The smoke was pouring through the window overhead, and the air was clearer down where I was. Bracing myself against the wall, I flexed my calf muscles as rolled my shoulders back, pushing myself up far enough for an upside-down look at the street outside. There were four armed guards stationed outside, keeping the onlookers at bay. I'd receive no help from them. Relaxing back down, I shook my head and took a few deep breaths, ignoring the searing pain in my lungs.

_I'm going to die,_ I realized. _There's no way out, the building is burning to the ground, and I'm going to die._

I started to cry at that, thinking about Fina and Xandra, hoping Carrion would take care of them, as he had promised he would. I wished I had been nicer to Letheo. Xaver had never taught us to be cruel. He had taught us to do what we had to, but without malice. _He taught us to survive._ Controlling my urge to hyperventilate, I stopped looking for a way out and started looking for somewhere to hide. Somewhere I might have a chance of surviving. There was a bookshelf that had fallen against the wall adjacent to the one I was pressed against. It was propped up in the corner. I could wedge myself between the bookshelf and the wall and stave off the heat, at least until the rafters caught fire and began collapsing. The facade of the store was stone, and wouldn't crumble like the interior. Chances were I was merely putting off the inevitable, but I wasn't ready to go to my death without a fight. I sank down onto my back, head pointing toward my destination, and began pushing myself along the floor as fast as I could manage, the bits of glass finding purchase in my scalp. _If I ever get out of this, I'm going to be hideous,_ I thought. I felt the top of my head come in contact with the wall, and I pushed myself up along it until I was crouching between the wall and the bookshelf. The stone wall was much cooler than the rest of the room, and I pressed my face into it, breathing deeply. I tried to bring up images of my sisters and my uncle in my mind to focus on as I waited, the sound of the shop succumbing to the flames and collapsing in on itself fading into the background.


	9. Of madmen and children

A/N: Did anyone watch the Oscars? Martin Scorsese was robbed. _Robbed!_ But I'm glad Jamie Foxx won Best Actor, he was amazing in _Ray_. Although, Don Cheadle was excellent in _Hotel Rwanda_, too. I think Morgan Freeman had it right when he said the pinnacle of achievement was to be nominated, and that the choosing of a winner was arbitrary, because everyone nominated deserved the award.  
Okay, now on to Abarat-related topics. I'm working really hard at writing a bit of the chapter every day instead of all in one go late at night, because my lifestyle has changed such that all-night writing sessions are no longer a possibility for me(except sometimes on the weekend). So far, I've been doing pretty good, I can write for a bit in the evenings before I go to bed(which means I often dream of Carrion, which is always a good thing), and I've been staying on schedule. Preparation for the Renaissance Faire I'm involved in(I'm Molly Pucker, the Kissing Wench) are beginning to take off, and next week I'll be starting on sewing the garb for myself and my non-sewing friend, so that's going to cut into my spare time(and wallet) significantly, but I'll try very hard to keep up with this story. I promise I won't abandon it, but I might go a couple of weeks without an update again. And of course, if anything changes, I'll notify everyone.  
Things have gotten pretty hairy for our heroine and her family, and they're most likely going to get worse before they get better, but we're approaching a turning point in the story. The situation is going to change drastically over the course of the next few chapters. I've tried to write about the more fantastical elements of the Abarat as though they were the most normal thing in the world, considering our characters have known nothing else, but we're going to be heading into some truly strange places soon, so I hope you're all game for a wild ride(I know you are, my readers are _fearless!_).

This chapter is dedicated to E.R.M. Griffin, because she's been having a rough time lately and because she's a survivor, like Yseult.

_

* * *

My best friend was alone in the alcove,  
__Does anyone still see her there?  
__Such a sweet face, trapped in the staircase  
__By the smell of her own burning hair... _

For a moment, I floated in a sea of pain. There was no light, no sound, no sensation other than searing pain. Then the smell of burning flesh reached my senses and I realized I was still alive. Cautiously opening my eyes, which felt like they had been sealed shut, I looked around me. I was still sitting against the stone wall, shielded from the remains of the store by the back of the bookshelf, the only part of it to survive. I pushed against it, and it crumbled into bits of charcoal in my hands. My hands themselves were red and blistered, as was most of my exposed skin. A fit of coughing overtook me, and I was doubled over in pain until it passed. I had no idea how long I had been out, but the fire was still raging in parts of the building, although the smoke wasn't so oppressive now that the roof was completely gone. There were dark shapes moving among the flames, and I shrank back against the wall in fear.

"_Yseult!_"

I turned in the direction of the voice. _Fina?_ I shook my head. I was hearing things in my death throes.

"Yseult, where are you?"

"Fina..." my voice sounded like sandpaper, I doubted she could hear me. I kicked at a nearby timber, causing it to fall and crumble into dust.

"Yseult!" my sister gasped. "She's over here. Oh, Yseult!"

Fina's dear face materialized before me like a vision, her hands fluttering over me nervously. "Oh my God..."

Another shape joined her, tall and strong, his pale head gleaming in the red light. I heard him take a sharp breath, before settling his face into a mask of indifference. _Must be worse than I thought...  
_I was bundled up in a soft blanket, and I drifted in and out of consciousness as Carrion wove back and forth down the lesser traveled alleys. Once or twice I thought Carrion was talking to me, but he was probably speaking to Fina. A few times we paused, and through the haze in my head, I heard the sound of soldiers marching and calling cadence. Fear would take me when I heard those things, and I would turn my head in toward Carrion's chest. Once we reached the house, Carrion set me on the bed and pulled the blanket away. I heard Xandra cry out in alarm as the extent of my injuries was revealed. Fina silenced her with a gesture and fetched her sewing tools.

"I've got to get you out of these clothes, or what's left of them..." Fina began cutting my shirt off with a pair of sewing shears, and I turned my face toward the wall, embarrassed that Carrion should see me like that.

"Xandra, bring me a basin of water and a rough towel." Fina said, softly. The familiar sound of her rich voice was a buoy in my sea of pain. She used the scissors to gently separate the legs of my pants from my skin. The skin there wasn't burned as badly as my face and arms, but my shoes had melted around my feet and had to be completely destroyed in order to remove them. I opened my eyes and looked at Fina as she assessed my injuries. She smiled at me as though nothing was amiss and whispered reassurances in my ear. I felt an overwhelming sense of shame. Once again I had failed my sisters and the burden of responsibility fell squarely on Fina's shoulders. I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall down my cheek.

"Ugh, that's disgusting!" Letheo's voice cut through the haze in my brain. My embarrassment deepened. I had forgotten he was in the room. I tried to lift my arms enough to cover myself, but they were stiff and unyielding, and Fina pressed them back down on the bed with a soft _shush_. I looked at the beast boy, who was staring at me with a mixture of disgust and curiosity, and choked back a sob. Carrion took the boy by the arm and hauled him out of the house in the space of two strides. Neither one returned, and some of my anxiety was reduced.

Fina took a pair of tweezers and began removing the thousands of tiny shards of glass embedded in my skin. After the first fifty were pulled from my arm, my nerves were pretty much on overload and I didn't feel anything beyond a light pressure. Xandra soaped the towel in warm water and followed Fina's progress, gently washing the blood away after the glass was removed. It was very slow going, and the pain returned anew when she began pulling the glass from my scalp, the sensitive nerve endings screaming. An eternity later, I was glass-free and Xandra was washing away the last of the blood oozing from the many tiny cuts crisscrossing my body. She continued to run the cloth over my forehead in a comforting manner, singing softly, while Fina mixed up a viscous, milky concoction in the kitchen. She began massaging the scentless lotion into my skin, which immediately started to feel numb. Once the pain had receded enough for my mind to clear, I realized how completely exhausted I was.

Fina, in an attempt to make me more comfortable, brought me a silk rose-patterned robe that had belonged to our grandmother and helped me slip into it. The cool smoothness of the robe felt incredibly good against my skin, and I was relieved to be clothed again. My eyelids felt too heavy to keep open, so I let them close as one of my sisters pulled the quilted coverlet over me. A feeling of safety settled over me, and the sound of their soft voices as they spoke to one another lulled me to sleep.

_

* * *

Glow, baby, glow, as the  
__Embers, they died there.  
__Nobody knows what  
__We saw inside there.  
__Twisting and burning,  
__The girls' fine young bodies._

Fina reapplied the lotion to my skin several times in the Night that followed, and to my immense relief, I was able to move my arms and legs again. My skin was still red and blotchy, but no longer screamed when I shifted position beneath the quilt. I still wore the loose robe Fina had put me in, I was not yet healed enough to wear anything more constraining than that. Carrion and Letheo had come back inside some time the previous Night, while I slept, but Letheo had apparently been warned against staring or commenting on my new appearance. I didn't know who I had to thank for that, but I was grateful all the same. Letheo was busying himself in the kitchen while Carrion sat at the table, reading. He was avoiding looking at me, as well. I was filled with a burning desire to know what my face looked like. I tugged on Fina's shirt sleeve as she passed.

"Is there something you want?" she asked, softly.

I couldn't make my vocal chords work, so I mouthed the word _mirror_.

"Are you sure?" Fina paused. I nodded. "Alright..."

She walked over to Xandra's corner and took the small hand mirror out from under the mattress. I waited as she came back over to me, sitting down on the bed beside me. "Here."

I gingerly took the mirror from her, and braced myself before holding it up to meet my gaze.  
It took an immense amount of effort not to look away from my reflection. Letheo was right, I was disgusting. My skin, which had always had the pale, porcelain look of those raised in the Night, was now red and mottled, several blisters marring my once smooth face. I turned my head to the right, where the damage was not so great. My right ear and jawline looked only scalded. I faced myself fully, again. Tilting my head down, I examined the top of my head. The part which fell naturally down the middle of my scalp was lobster red and quite shiny. I would have to cut several inches off my long hair, which I had privately been so vain about, since much of it had been singed and burned. I hadn't had shoulder length hair since I was a small girl. I wondered if it would be easier to take care of. The only feature which remained unchanged were my eyes. Xaver used to say I loved sailing so much because I had the Izabella inside me, you could tell because the stormy color of the sea shone out through my eyes. Now, their soothing steel blue was the only relief I could find on the painful expanse of tortured red flesh that was my new face. I felt like I was trapped inside this unfamiliar body, and my eyes were the only way I could reach out, prove that I was still me.  
I handed the mirror back to Fina, my hands shaking badly. She took it and set it aside.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded, mutely.

"Everything will be fine, Yseult. I promise. The burns really aren't that bad, it just looks that way now. In a few nights the burnt skin will start peeling off and I'll keep helping you with the lotion. The blisters might leave scars, but they won't be too noticeable. I bet in a few months, you won't even be able to tell you were in a fire."

I merely nodded again, forcing myself not to cry.

"I'm going back to the bookshop. I need to tell Rangsey I'm taking some tome off." Fina said.

"You're not going to tell him about Yseult..." Xandra began.

"No, no. It's best if Yseult's presumed to be dead. The last thing Pixler will want is word getting out that he's sanctioning murder to further his ambitions." she replied, donning her jacket. "I'll think of something. I'll be back soon."

Xandra poured a large glass of water and brought it to me as Fina left. "Here, maybe this will help your voice."

_Thank you,_ I mouthed. I took a long drink. It helped.

"Tell me what happened." I whispered.

"It was awful. Fina ran home and told us all what was happening. She was so afraid for you, I've never seen her look so frightened. Carrion immediately took off for the bookstore, and Fina went after him. Letheo and I waited here, it seemed like it took forever for them to come back, and I was so worried, but then Carrion came in with you wrapped in a blanket. Fina said when they had reached the building, the roof was already collapsing. Carrion killed the guards and went straight into the fires looking for you. Fina said it was a miracle that he wasn't killed by the falling roof." Xandra's voice was laced with awe.

I listened as I finished drinking the water. Cautiously I cleared my throat, testing my vocal chords.

"I shall have to thank him." I said, my voice so quiet I wasn't sure Xandra had heard me. This was going to take a while.

Xandra asked if I wanted her to cut my hair for me while we waited for Fina. I nodded, and she retrieved the shears Fina had used to cut my clothing off. I sat up while Xandra draped a towel around me to catch the falling hair. There was no sound in the house save the snip of the scissors. I felt lighter, as the long tresses I was so accustomed to fell away. I couldn't keep a tear from falling down my cheeks as Xandra finished. She folded my hair up carefully in the towel before standing to take it away. I lifted my hand hesitantly and ran my fingers through my newly shorn locks. It felt strange, my fingers coming in contact with air before I was ready for them to. I shook my head, and my hair danced lightly about my shoulders, mocking me with it's gaiety. I looked up as Fina entered the house, her hair dripping about her shoulders. She stood in the doorway a moment, staring at me.

"It's raining." she said, shaking her head slightly. She took off her coat and laid over the back of one of the chairs. "Xandra cut your hair?"

"Yes." I said.

Fina sat down beside me and carefully peeled back the rose colored silk from my skin, her smooth fingers probing gently. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes."

"Does it still hurt?"

"It's more of a dull ache." I whispered. "Don't worry, it's getting better. What did you tell Rangsey?"

"He didn't really ask questions. He said I could have as much time as I needed." Fina replied.

"That's very nice of him."

"Well, he does think my sister just died. He said if there was anything I needed just to ask for it." she frowned. "I feel guilty for lying to him."

"I know." I said. "Fina, I'm sorry about everything. _I'm_ supposed to take care of things, and I know I keep letting you down."

"Yseult, don't worry about that. I was angry when I said those things, I didn't mean them." she took my hand. "We're family, we do for each other. It's not your fault."

She picked up the hand mirror and held it out to me. I took it and held it up. My hair now fell just to my shoulders. I sighed. "I miss my long hair already."

Fina laughed softly. "It will grow back."

I hadn't had my hair cut in twenty years. It figured it would take a disaster to make me change it. My thoughts went back to the bookstore.

"Fina, what happened to Lazlo?" I asked, already fearful of the answer.

"He didn't make it, Yseult." Fina said. "By the time we got there, the fire had gotten so hot in the back of the store...there was nothing but ash."

I nodded. I knew it wasn't her fault, or Carrion's fault, or my fault, but the guilt was still there. I had been right there, beside him, and I had made the decision to leave him and save myself. I knew, _I knew,_ that there was no way I could have done anything for him, but I would always feel responsible for not having tried.

Letheo cleared his throat. We looked over at him. "Uh, sorry to interrupt. Dinner's ready."

"Thank you, Letheo." Fina said.

I ate in bed while everyone else sat around the table. There wasn't much dinner conversation that night. After dinner, Xandra took my plate and helped Letheo clean up in the kitchen while Fina went outside to take the laundry down from the line. Carrion stood from the table and walked over to me.

"Ah, feeling better, Yseult?"

"Yes, my lord, I am." I replied.

"Excellent. Your sister is a passable doctor." he sat on the edge of the bed. It occurred to me that I had usurped his sleeping place. I wondered where he had retired to last night, or if he had even slept at all. "Pixler's fire did quite a number on you. I'm surprised you didn't succumb to the flames. You are very strong willed, aren't you, Yseult?"

The way he said it, I didn't know if it was a good thing or not.

"That's the second time you've saved my life, my lord." I remarked. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

"You can't. You're mine, for life. I have plans for you Yseult." he replied. "I would appreciate it if you would cease getting yourself into these kinds of situations. I am not your nursemaid, I cannot always be there to save you. In fact, this whole business is getting rather tiresome. I'm beginning to wonder if you're not more trouble than you're worth."

He leaned close to me, his hand coming up to catch my chin. I swallowed thickly as his eyes fixed on mine. "You're going to have to prove your worth to me, Yseult." he said, softly. "Find some way to convince me that I _need_ you."

I nodded, mutely. Carrion released me and sat back against the wall. "We have been far too complacent, I think, Yseult. It's time to begin. You can make yourself useful to me again, I want us gone. Quickly."

"Yes, my lord." I replied. The fact that he kept using my name did not escape me. It made me uncomfortable; he was almost creating an intimacy on his side, while I continued to call him "my lord" and such. Another way he could assert his dominance over me. The sound of my name on his lips, so casual, did other things to me that did not bear thinking about at the moment, or at all. "I'll take care of it."

"Such a good girl." he smiled, his eyes remaining cold. He stood and beckoned to Letheo, who immediately went to his side. They left the house, and Fina walked over to me.

"What was all that about?" she asked.

"I need you to do something for me, Fina."

"Of course."

"Go to the docks, ask for Brosh, tell him Yseult wants to charter passage for five to Hobarookus." I instructed in my strained voice. "We're leaving this island."


	10. Not knowing one from the other

A/N: Y'all didn't really think I'd kill Yseult, did you? Before it even gets interesting? Like Carrion said, I have plans for her.  
I could have had this finished and posted yesterday, but instead I drew a cartoon based on an earlier author's note. Now, if I only had a scanner...wait! My birthday's coming up! There will be special cake for reviewers _that_ week.  
For those who don't know, the chapter titles are from the poem that opens Part Four of Book Two of Abarat, and I just realized that I skipped a line back in Chapter Six. So I've gone back and fixed that, which is why you may recognize this chapter title.

_

* * *

_

_All along, it was the ocean's song  
That called me down to listen to her.  
Standing drenched by a 40 ft. coral fence.  
Swallowed by a swiftly dripping ripple. _

"What does this friend of yours do, Yseult?" Carrion asked as we navigated the narrow streets.

"He's a pirate." I replied.

"And you think you can trust him?"

"Of course, my lord. He may be a pirate, but he's a good man with an overdeveloped sense of chivalry, and I am a damsel in distress."

Carrion snorted at that, but I ignored it. Brosh was an old friend of the family, though I seriously doubted Fina and Xandra would have remembered him had I asked. They hadn't seen him since before we settled on Idjit, when, in the aftermath of our uncle's death, he had let us stay aboard his Tall Ship, the _Mortal Sin_. Every time he came into port on Idjit, I made a point of going down to the docks to visit with him. He was, as I had told Carrion, a pirate, and a damned good one at that. If anyone could help me now, it was Brosh. I only hoped that his neutral attitude toward governments of any kind would work in my favor.

We couldn't carry everything, and there was an agonizing evening before our departure when we had to choose what came with us and what we left behind. I took only half of my clothing, needing the extra room in my trunk for all my books. Fina took some of the more expensive cloth we had accumulated over the years, along with her own personal effects. Xandra took it upon herself to pack most of our more sentimental belongings, such as things that had belonged to family members long since passed. We did have Carrion and Letheo to help, so transporting the trunks down to the docks wasn't as difficult as it could have been. Carrion looked like a shadow moving down the streets, nothing of his form visible from beneath the black hooded robe, his hands encased in his gloves.

I had taken a long piece of cloth and wrapped it about my head to cover my newly cropped hair, thinking I would simply keep it covered until it grew out again, if it ever did. To cover everything else I wore a long, heavy coat made from red wool. It had a collar of dark brown fur, only a shade or two darker than my own hair, and I pulled the collar up to cover my ears and most of my face. Only a narrow band of red skin and my eyes were visible between the soft brown fur and the cloth of my head covering. Fina had made me a very nice pair of black gloves, similar to Carrion's, and I slipped these on as well, hiding my blistered hands.

Fina led the five of us up the gangplank onto the ship, Letheo bringing up the rear. As soon as I set foot on the deck I began looking for the captain. I spotted him chatting amiably to his bosun. Tugging the collar of my jacket up with one hand, I made my way over to him. He glanced at me once before turning back to the bosun, then did a double-take.

"Yseult? My God. What happened to you?" Brosh asked, concerned.

"There was a fire." I pulled him aside. "Can we talk for a moment? I need to take you into my confidence."

"Of course. Here..." he guided me to his cabin with an arm about my waist. Closing the door behind him, he gestured for me to sit in the large leather wing back chair beside his desk. There was a snifter of brandy on the desk. "Drink?"

"No thank you."

He shrugged and poured himself a glass before settling into the chair behind his desk. He took a sip before relaxing."What is it?"

"Thank you for doing this for me, and for not asking questions."

"It's not a problem. You shouldn't be embarrassed, Yseult. Which one of those men is yours? The tall one, right? I'd like to meet him."

"What?" I blanched. "No, no...you misunderstand me. I'm not romantically involved with either of them."

"Oh, so they're Fina and Xandra's?"

"Absolutely not! They're just traveling with us."

"Okay, okay, take it easy." he held up his hands in mock surrender. "So what is it you need to talk to me about?"

"We've been friends for a long time, haven't we, Brosh?"

"Yes, we have." he replied. "Are you in some kind of trouble, Yseult? It worries me that you start the conversation like that."

"Yes, I am in trouble. I need you to promise me that I can trust you." I said.

"You can always trust me. I think Xaver would find a way to strike me from the grave if I ever crossed any of you girls." he smiled.

"This is difficult." I began. "My sisters and I have a very big secret we've been keeping. But we can't do this by ourselves anymore, and there aren't any inventive lies that will keep this under wraps on a ship. I'm going to need your help with your crew."

"It's yours. Anything I can do." he assured me. "Does this have anything to do with the two men you're traveling with?"

I took a deep breath. "This has everything to do with them. Brosh, tell me what you think about the Carrions."

He blinked at the apparent change of topic. "Uh, well...I think Mater Motley's completely cracked, but so do most people. I tell you, between her and Pixler, these islands are..."

"Brosh," I interrupted him, "What do you think about Prince Carrion?"

"Well, I mean, he's a _Carrion_. Was a Carrion." he corrected. "I'm a pirate, Yseult. I don't really care about monarchs one way or the other, so long as they don't mess with me and mine. Prince Carrion pretty much left us alone if we left him alone, which is more than I can say for his hag of a grandmother. She comes into power, and suddenly decides she's going to claim possession of all the ships in the Night Isles. We had a pretty bad run-in with one of her ships, packed to the gills with stitchlings, a few weeks ago. She actually expected us to abandon our own business and aid her navy as some kind of reserve force."

"So things were better under Prince Carrion?"

"I guess you could say that. I never considered myself to be under Prince Carrion's rule, but he certainly wasn't as mad as Old Motley. He had an understanding with most of the pirates, as much of an understanding as _could_ be reached, anyway. I think he approved of the pirate lifestyle. I respected him for that. I'm not saying I'd want to go drinking with him, but I get the 'I'll stay out of your business if you stay out of mine' mentality."

"Do you think the other pirates feel the same way?"

"I can't really speak for others, but yeah. I think so. Where are you going with this?" he asked.

I took a moment to gather my courage. _Please help me, Brosh._

"Prince Carrion isn't dead."

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear in the taverns, Yseult. Once people get a little deep in their drink..."

"No, that's not why I know he's alive." I said. "I've seen him."

Brosh's eyes widened slightly, and I knew he understood. "The tall man..."

"He washed up on the beach outside of my house a couple months ago, and my sisters and I have been harboring him ever since. The boy is his...assistant, I suppose. He found us."

I waited for what seemed like ages for Brosh to react. He stood from his chair and crossed the room, his back to me, and stood there, swilling his brandy. Finally he turned to me, his face registering several conflicting emotions.

"Yseult, do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Not only have you been aiding and abetting a wanted traitor, but you took the ridiculous chance of telling me about it! You're not an idiot, girl, so how could do something so stupid? What if I were one of Motley's spies? What if there is a spy among my crew?"

"I _had_ to take the chance, Brosh, I can't do this by myself." I replied. "You will help us, won't you?"

He sighed and sank back into his chair. "Aye, I'll help you, though I'm probably a fool for doing so. Tell Prince Carrion that I'd be obliged if he'd stay in his cabin until I come to speak to him. I need to think about how to deal with this."

"Thank you." I smiled at him nervously.

"Don't worry about it." he waved his hands dismissively.

I left his office and walked across the deck, pulling my collar up higher around my face. The stairs leading down to the cabins were narrow, and dimly lit, but the corridor was very clean. I loved the feeling of being in the bowels of a ship again. The creaking of the wood as we sailed was like music to me. I knocked on Carrion's door and waited. The door opened slightly, and I saw one of Letheo's eyes peering at me between the door and the wall.

"Oh, it's you." he said, dispassionately.

"Who is it, Letheo?" I heard Carrion's voice.

"_Her._"

"Well, by all means, let _her_ in, Letheo." came the patronizing reply. Letheo frowned, but opened the door wider and stepped to the side to allow me passage. I noted the sparseness of the room he and Carrion had been installed in, and walked over to where Carrion was lining his books up on the cabin's only shelf.

"There you are girl. Finished your conversation with our intrepid Captain Brosh?" he said, placing the last book on the shelf.

"Yes, my lord. I informed him of the situation and..."

I didn't get to finish my sentence as Carrion had seized my arm with one hand and taken me by the throat with the other. He leaned toward me, bringing his face close enough that our noses would have touched, had he had a nose. My eyes widened at the expression in his, and I realized this was the first time I had ever seen him truly angry. I was convinced in that moment that he had saved me from the fire only to squeeze the life out of me now.

"You told him about me?" his voice was nearly a whisper, but quivered with rage. I nodded. "You betrayed me to him. After all I have done for you and your sisters, you betray me _now_?

I struggled to breathe, his hand a bruising force on my neck. I fancied I could feel bones breaking.

"Tell me, _my dear,_" he pronounced the endearment with naked hatred even as he loosened his grip enough to allow me to reply. "Is he on his way now to lock me up and await my delivery to Gorgossium, or are you here to give me a grace period to make my peace with it?"

"No...my lord..."

"No? No what?" he tightened his hand on my arm, and I _could_ hear the bones popping in truth.

"My Prince, I did not betray you!" I cried. I heard Letheo snicker behind me. "Brosh has promised to help you, my lord. He has no love for Mater Motley!"

"It is not love that keeps men in her thrall, it is fear." Carrion spat at me.

"Please, my lord, he is on his way to speak with you, to assure you of his intentions..."

Carrion threw me violently to the floor. My head hit the wood with a loud crack, and white spots bloomed in my vision. There was another knock on the door, and then Brosh's gruff voice asking to speak with Carrion. Letheo looked to his master, who nodded, before opening the door. I struggled to raise myself to a standing position; Brosh would never agree to helping Carrion if he thought I had been hurt by him. I straightened my head covering as Brosh entered.

"Captain, this is Prince Carrion." I kept my voice steady as I made the introductions.

"Leave us, Yseult. I would like to speak to the captain alone." Carrion instructed. "Letheo, escort Yseult to her cabin."

"Yes, my lord." Letheo made a deep bow to Carrion before ushering me out of the room. I assumed he knew where my sisters had been taken, I certainly didn't, and I followed behind him as he quickly turned down the passage, passing the stairs I had come down earlier, and stopped in front of a door identical to the one opening on Carrion's cabin. He nodded at me curtly before walking away. I knocked hesitantly on the door, wondering if he had taken me to someone else's room as a joke. I was relieved to see Xandra's face as she opened the door.

"Oh, Yseult." she opened the door wider and waved me inside. She and Fina had already unpacked everything that needed unpacking for our 14-hour voyage to Hobarookus by way of Huffaker. "I was just going to bed. Are you in for the night?"

"No, actually, I think I need some air. I'm going to go walk about the deck for a bit."

She nodded and started changing into her nightgown as I left. I made my way back up the narrow stairs, noting that the dim lights had been turned off. As I emerged topside, the vast expanse of the sky opened before me, peppered with innumerable stars. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the heavens, unmolested by artificial light, the heavy orb of the moon looming pendulously over the water. I walked across the deck and halfway up the stairs on the opposite side that led to the upper deck, folding my arms on the bannister and breathing deeply. I stood like that for quite some time, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the side of the ship. The cold wind off the sea felt wonderful against my skin, though I still felt like stripping everything off and immersing myself in the freezing water.

_The salt would drive you mad..._

My reverie was interrupted by footsteps behind me. _Brosh_, I thought, turning with a smile. My smile faded away as Carrion stepped up beside me, leaning against the rail in a similar fashion.

"I have had a long talk with your friend, the Captain." Carrion said.

"Yes, my lord?"

"I am content to leave things as they are, for now. He seems genuine."

"Y...yes, my lord. Brosh is a good friend, and a good man. I trust him with my life."

"You are trusting him with your life, Yseult, because you know what will happen if he or his crew betrays me."

"I know, my lord. No one will betray you." I answered, softly.

"For your sake, I hope not."

My heartbeat tripled as he reached over and took my hand.

"You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you, Yseult?" he looked at me from under heavy lids as he ran his finger down the inside of my wrist, tracing the pulse. I ignored the flash of pain that sped up my arm as he did so. It was a deliberately sensual gesture, and it terrified me. _He knows._ My mouth went dry and my heart pounded in my throat.

"Of course not, my lord." I managed a whisper.

"Of course not." he echoed, just as softly. "Because you haven't proven yourself invaluable to me yet."

Abruptly, he released me. The corner of his robe hit me in the face as he spun around and began descending the stairs.

"Sleep well." he threw over his shoulder as he headed back down to his cabin.

Alone once more, I steadied my breathing as the wind stung my face. _Breathe, Yseult, breathe..._

He knew. He knew exactly what his nearness did to me, and he now had as much power over me as he could ever possibly need. If terrifying me into submission failed, he could switch to blatant seduction. I pressed my forehead against the smooth wood of the railing and counted the tears that fell onto its surface. It seemed like I had done nothing but cry for the past week, and it made me feel weak. Damn my traitorous body for delivering me so completely into his hands. Letheo would certainly have nothing to fear from me after this, Carrion was probably even now laughing at the silly little deformed chit with a crush. How would I ever be able to look at him again?

I stood there for a moment longer, trying to empty my mind until all it held was the sound of the sea. I was phenomenally unsuccessful. Fatigue was creeping steadily over me, and my feet felt like they were made of lead as I began walking down the stairs and across the deck. The stairs leading down to the bowels of the ship were completely dark and the lack of any sort of light was comforting. My hand trailed lightly over the railing, guiding me in the pitch black, while my mind wandered to places I'd rather it not go. I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and let my hand continue along the wall until I felt the edge of the door to the room Brosh had put my sisters and I in. There was a faint light creeping around the edges. Inside, Xandra was already asleep under the covers of the single bed. Fina looked over as I entered.

"There you are, it's time to put some more of this on." she held up the bottle containing the potion she had mixed up at the house and gestured to the bed. Sighing, I removed my shirt and laid down on my stomach. Fina began massaging the lotion into my back.

"You're quiet tonight. What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing new. I'm an idiot." I smiled over my shoulder. "Thank you, Fina."

"Of course." she replied. "This is looking really good. I think you're going to heal up quite nicely."

"I hope so. What exactly did you put in that stuff?"

"I'm not quite sure..." she began, hesitantly.

"What?" I tried to turn around, but she pushed me back on my stomach. "I've been letting you rub it into my skin and you don't even know what it is?"

"Carrion sent Letheo to get the ingredients as soon as we arrived at the house, I just mixed it together." she explained. "And it's working beautifully, so don't worry."

"I can't believe you administered something of Carrion's devising to me without questioning its contents. What if it were poison or acid or..."

"Yseult, _what_ is wrong with you lately?"

"I don't know!" I groaned. "I'm just...confused, I think. I need to sleep."

"I wish you both would." came the irritated response from Xandra, whose head was hidden beneath a pillow.

Fina and I murmured apologies, and I crept under the covers beside Xandra while Fina turned out the lights and joined us. It had been a very long time since the three of us had shared a bed and fallen asleep to the rocking of the Izabella. Lying in the dark beside the two people I loved more than anything in the world, I pretended that the events of the past 14 years had never happened, and that we were safe aboard the _Boudicca_, with Xaver awake and watchful at the helm while his trusting nieces slumbered.


	11. Do not blame the wind

A/N: You guys know what sucks? Writer's block. And a dead computer battery, but mostly writer's block. Sorry this chapter is so late. I've been very busy, what with all the going to fabric stores and cutting and sewing(setting your own grommets SUCKS!), and trying to figure out this whole college admissions thing. I've been having some not-so-fun headaches. I had two plot lines I could have followed at this point, and couldn't make up my mind, so I ran them both by one of my friends(while we were in the fabric store, no less), and here is the winning chapter. Not as exciting as the one that lost out, but we'll see that chapter later.

Thank you all for being so patient. Cake and ice cream in honor of my birthday(which was almost two weeks ago, but we'll overlook that)!

* * *

_Actually I was never conceived  
And I don't expect to be believed  
But I find my mouth stitched shut  
With glossy pink thread  
When I think of the  
Lie-filled love life that I led_

After a night of being cradled by the Izabella, I felt refreshed, if not relieved. Fina was already up and changing into her traveling clothes. I figured the three of us would probably go ashore once we reached Huffaker to stretch our legs and do a little sight-seeing while Brosh made whatever transactions he was there for. I planned to stay in the cabin for the remainder of our sea voyage to avoid running into Carrion. Of course, once we reached Hobarookus, it couldn't be helped, but I needed as much time away from him as his confusing presence and I could get before then.

I attempted to sit up, but found my left arm was still pinned under Xandra's head. Gently, I rolled her to one side, pulled my arm free, and climbed out from under the covers. The rush of blood through my newly liberated veins felt like millions of little pin-pricks, and I started rubbing my arm vigorously to assuage the uncomfortable feeling. Fina smirked at me as she buttoned up her jacket.

"We'll be landing soon, you should wake her up and see if she wants to go ashore." she said, nodding her head toward Xandra.

I shook Xandra's shoulder, and she looked over it at me, her face a mix of annoyance and confusion. "Do you want to go ashore for a little while, Xandra?"

She nodded, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. I pulled her up into a sitting position while Fina chose her clothes and brought them over to the bed.

"I'm not a child, I can pick out my own clothing." she insisted.

"We know you can." Fina replied. "However, if we left it to you, you'd roll over and go back to sleep."

Xandra started dressing while Fina left, saying she'd meet us up on deck. I stood, stretching, and crouched by the open trunk containing my clothes. I pulled out my favorite black pants, faded from much use, and a comfortable long-sleeved shirt which was covered with various astrological symbols. I had bought it on a whim one night because my own sign was featured prominently in the center; Mat'Zica, the Mantizac. Proud, headstrong, a little dangerous with a thirst for excitement, and the trademark cruel streak. I never completely identified with the characteristics of my sign. Sure, I had a certain wanderlust, but I had been tamed by familial responsibilities, and never remembered having a cruel streak. I had also been born on a cusp, and I felt more closely aligned with the sign that preceded mine, which was the Sea-Skipper, Saphiscuro. Peaceful, loyal, fun-  
loving, and inextricably bound to the Izabella. Of course, the shirt would be covered completely beneath my red coat, but I would know it was there. I heard Xandra struggling with her own pants behind me, and laughed. Manual dexterity first thing after waking wasn't exactly her strong suit. I looked around for my head scarf and found it, discarded by the bed. Carefully, I twisted it around my head, tucking all my hair up into it and tying it off. Fina may have thought my looks were improving, but she was my sister, and my nurse, and hardly unbiased.

I waited for Xandra to finish dressing so I could walk with her up to the deck, not simply out of courtesy, but because I didn't want to be alone if Carrion was lurking around somewhere, though what protection Xandra could afford me, I had no idea.

"Okay, I'm ready." Xandra announced. I followed her down the hall and up the stairs, which were blessedly Carrion-free, and out onto the deck. Xandra spotted Fina chatting with one of the crewmen and walked over to her, effectively abandoning me.

_Oh no_, I thought as I saw Letheo crossing the deck with long, purposeful strides. I affixed what I hoped was a suitably friendly smile on my face as he approached. "Hello, Letheo. Sleep well?"

He ignored my greeting. "How long until we dock? Do you know?"

"Not long, a few minutes I think." I replied, glancing over my shoulder at the rocky shoreline coming into view. "Are you coming with us?"

"I'm coming ashore, but not with _you_." he said disdainfully.

"And your master..."

"Don't worry, he's staying in the cabin until we sail again." Letheo crossed behind me, pausing by my right shoulder. "Missing him already?"

Anger and embarrassment boiled up inside me as I turned to him, throwing my left fist up toward his face. He blocked my attack with the ease of one who has studied fighting extensively. I had no doubt he would make good on his promise to become the best assassin in the islands. The smug look on his face did nothing to alleviate my rage. I pulled my hand out of his grasp and stalked over to my sisters, fuming.

"What did he say to you?" Xandra asked.

"Nothing," I lied, "just the usual."

Conversation ceased as we queued up behind the others waiting to go ashore. I managed to get my anger under control as we made our way down to the wharf, where a few other vessels were docked, as well. We paused at the end of the wharf and surveyed the islands dismal landscape.

"So, what do you want to do?" I asked, nonplused. Huffaker wasn't exactly known for it's entertainment industry. Aside from Hap's Vault, there wasn't much of anything to do on the island.

"We could go to the Vault and look for the Skein..." Xandra ventured.

"No, we don't have enough time to make the trek to the Vault. We should stay close to the harbor." Fina replied.

In the end, we decided to have a bit of dinner at a dingy little hotel that was situated a little precariously on the edge of the wharf. The food wasn't anything to write home about, and the waitress in me balked at what they dared to call service. Still it was the first meal in a long time that we hadn't had to cook for ourselves, and we enjoyed the respite.

"What will we do when we get to Hobarookus?" Xandra asked as we ambled back toward the ship.

"I'm not entirely sure yet. We have enough money to get a small place, I suppose, but we'd have to stay in a hotel for a few days until we find one. And we'll all need work, of course." I replied.

Xandra shuddered. "Days. I can't believe we're settling on a Day Isle."

"I know, I know. But it's the only other isle I know as well as Idjit, and I didn't want to chance settling somewhere completely unfamiliar."

"The sunlight will make us sick." Fina stated.

"Only until we become accustomed to it, and there are lotions and sunglasses until then..."

"What about Carrion?" Xandra asked, pointedly. "He'll be much harder to conceal in the light."

"That's true," I began, "but Hobarookus is known for being home to all manner of strange and often unsavory sorts. I think if he's careful and doesn't go out much, we can hide his true identity. There's no reason for anyone to notice yet another tall, shadowy figure in a hooded robe."

We lapsed back into silence for the rest of the walk. Fina pulled me back a bit and we slowed our pace, allowing Xandra to board the ship ahead of us.

"What's going on with you and Carrion, anyway?" she asked.

"What do you mean..." I said, uncertainly.

"You've been acting very strange around him, and Letheo's been giving you more grief than usual. What's going on, Yseult? Does he want something else from us? You don't have to deal with him on your own, you know."

"I know, it's nothing like that. I can handle it. He's just having a bit of fun with me, that's all."

She eyed me skeptically. "So you've been saying."

"Fina, I promise you, I'll let you know if something serious is going on. Trust me, okay?" I pleaded.

"Alright. If you're sure..."

"I am."

Thankfully, she let the matter drop. The last thing I needed was having to explain to my sister that I was developing feelings for the man who had completely disrupted our lives and was apparently taking great pleasure in manipulating us to his will.

_And why _do_ you feel this way, Yseult?_

I had secretly begun to believe there was something fundamentally wrong with me. Perhaps, in my heart of hearts, I was a sick and twisted individual who enjoyed all this pain and suffering I was being put through. What kind of person fell for their tormentor? Why did I let myself become entangled in those mind games of his I knew I could never win? Why was I sometimes intentionally invoking his wrath for no other reason than to see his eyes darken in cruelty and feel the cold iron-hard pressure of his hand on my skin? Only a very sick person would thrill to the touch that caused pain and injury, surely. And the dreams...

_Stop it._

I took a deep breath before entering our cabin, grateful for my discolored skin for the first time. The uneven texture and still-reddened color would hide any blush that had crept up as my thoughts wandered too far down the dark path. I made to open the door just as a gloved hand reached over my shoulder and pushed it shut again. Sighing deeply, I turned around and came face to face with the object of my confusion.

He made a tsking sound. "Unhappy to see me, Yseult? I'm hurt."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You've been avoiding me, girl."

"Unintentionally, I assure you, my lord." I replied quietly. I could tell he was in one of his moods.

"I find _that_ hard to believe." he answered back, just as quietly. He straightened, and in a gesture that seemed completely unlike him, offered me his right arm. "Come, we will talk."

I took his arm gingerly and focused my attention on the floor a few feet on front of me as we walked. Far from talking, we made our progress in complete silence, not even the sound his breath reached my ears. There weren't many crewmen on the deck as we began to stroll along the perimeter, and the sky was ever so slowly beginning to lighten. I looked up at Carrion and saw his lip curl in disdain.

"You _would_ choose that damnably bright island." he remarked. I did not comment that all he need do was order us to any island of his choosing and we would go there.

"I am sorry, my lord."

"No matter. It suits my plans."

"Does it, my lord?"

He halted. "You know, I think I liked you more when you truly _did_ hate me, Yseult." he said, looking down at me. "As amusing as your infatuation is to me, I find this newly docile nature of yours immensely distasteful."

I felt very uncomfortable, standing there under his scrutiny. Snatching my hand from his arm, I turned my back on him. "Then what _would_ you have me do? Shall I go back to hating you? Your ...charms, such as they are, have not robbed me of all my anger over what you've done to my family. Prince. I think I could make a convincing show of hating you once more, if you'd prefer."

"Oh, I've no doubts about that." he replied. "But I've come to know that even the most passionate love and the most blackened hatred can mingle more intimately than salt and seawater."

I knew he spoke of his princess, and I felt an irrational anger that the first time he spoke of love to me it would be about her. He stepped forward, until he pressed against my back, and whispered in my ear.

"You see, my dear, you can go on hating me all you want. You can hate me until your knees go weak and you quiver with it, but you can't deny what sings in your blood." he spoke vehemently. "And _that_ is what makes you mine. You couldn't be more mine than if I crushed every last breath from your body with my own hands."

I felt his lips twitch in a smirk against the shell of my ear. "What man could possibly ask for more?"

"I never said I loved you." I said.

He stepped back from me. "Lust, then. Desire. Call it what you will, it hardly matters. The fact remains that you can never escape me. You are _mine_, Yseult, and I will never let you go."

Once again, he left me standing on the deck by myself, the echoes of his words ringing in my head. Somehow he always managed to twist my thoughts with his words, the soft threats of violence that left his lips transformed themselves on their journey to my brain into dark promises. He spoke of murder and my sick, sick mind focused on _your body_ and _my hands_. As he knew it would, of course. Such was the perfection of our demented flirtation that he could expound all he wanted on the various forms of torture and pain he could afflict upon me, _and he could make me want it._

I sighed in frustration. This could only end badly. Worse, it could end badly for Xandra and Fina, as well, and through no fault of their own. I decided that they would never know of my sick obsession. It would not be difficult to hide. There would be no furtive glances or romantic exchanges between us, no love tokens or tender touches. Carrion could strike me and I would accept it as I would a kiss. They would never have to know, unless Letheo told them. I paused. That could be a problem. After our exchange earlier, I had no doubts that Letheo knew of my feelings, if not of everything that had transpired between his master and myself. I would not put it past him to use that knowledge against me. Even mere humiliation would be incentive enough. I would have to come to some sort of arrangement with him, to keep the truth from Fina and Xandra. I could only imagine what their reactions would be if they knew of my longings. Disgust, most assuredly, then perhaps a sense of betrayal, followed by hatred.

Rather than return to the cabin with everything that weighed on my mind, I stayed out on the deck, smiling politely at the various crewmen who emerged periodically from the bowels of the ship. The sky was a light shade of grey on the horizon directly in front of us, where the Hour of Yzil lay, and I could see the darkened coast of Ninnyhammer to the west as we sailed by. We would be approaching 2:00 p.m. soon, Orlando's Cap, and if I stayed up much longer, I'd need sunglasses to protect my eyes. Maybe I was crazy for choosing a daylight isle. We needed somewhere far from Mater Motley's influence, but somewhere not under the thrall of Rojo Pixler or to Grand Court of the Hours. Hobarookus had seemed like a good choice.

_Do you really think you should be trusting your judgement considering recent developments?_

_Shut up._


	12. The Day is words and rage

A/N: Sooo...I finally got my computer fixed! Much rejoicing took place, I assure you. I apologize for extreme lateness, and to reward your immense patience, I have a spot of naughtiness for you. I love you all, please enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The ostrich and the egret  
Had a very fine flat to let.  
Figurine hutch, no the place wasn't much, but they  
Got a peacock._

When Thaddeus George painted _The Beautiful Moment_, his famous triptych of the islands for the occasion of Princess Boa's wedding, Hobarookus stood out as having a large pirate flag spread across its southeastern shore. One could postulate this was due to the artist's desire to identify the island as the pirate haven it was, and is. However, the truth of the matter is that the residents of the island, upon hearing of King Claus' commission, took it upon themselves to declare their affiliation in no uncertain terms. Every seamstress on the island was put to work creating the huge flag. Once the flag was in place, the immense shadow it created proved a perfect haven for the seedier aspects of pirate life, and many of the more dubious businessmen set up shop beneath its canopy. The flag was never removed, but after sixteen years of being pounded by rain and sun alike, it had lost most of its glory, and was quite threadbare in many places. It was beneath one of the expanses of undamaged flag, therefor, that I procured lodging for the five of us. Still a far cry from the enveloping darkness we were all accustomed to, some more than others, the shade nevertheless allowed us to go without sunglasses while indoors.

I had to dip significantly into our nest-egg to pay for the small house, but a house of our own was a necessity. I certainly couldn't risk some nosy neighbor(of which there were more than a few) listening through the walls of an apartment. Luckily for us, most of those who settle in Hobarookus make a point of changing their base of operations on a semi-regular basis, and the house I bought was rather spacious for the price I paid. It had previously belonged to a crew dealing in the illicit trafficking of unwilling young females to various ports in the Night Isles, a fact I intended to keep to myself, who had needed to unload the house and be on their way in a hurry. The captain accepted the first offer I had made, and I was a little upset with myself for making my initial offer so generous once I saw that he would have taken almost any price. Well, it was no matter, the house was mine in any case.

What had attracted me the most about the house was the fact that it had apparently been two adjacent buildings to begin with, which had been connected by a small, one-story addition between the two. If the addition had had its own door, the single building would have looked like three, albeit small ones. I theorized that if someone were to come snooping, we could simply all retreat to the end of the building _not_ being spied upon, and hopefully whoever it was would leave before Carrion decided to end their snooping altogether. The other advantage to the unique setup was that I could install Carrion and Letheo in their own wing, minimizing the contact I had with them both. I decided to give them the larger of the two wings, the one with two bedrooms. I suspected Carrion would have demanded his own chamber anyway, and Fina, Xandra and I would be comfortable in the large single room in the smaller wing.

Busying myself with the various domestic tasks involved in setting up house served to distract me, however momentarily, from the intensely disturbing revelation I had had on the _Mortal Sin_ with Carrion. Once I had stopped shaking enough to walk, I returned to the cabin. Fina and Xandra were asleep, and I tried not to disturb then as I climbed into the bed beside Xandra. Sleep hadn't come for me then, instead I was left awake and full of tumultuous emotions. I had never had a serious interest in a man before, and nothing to guide my actions save my instincts. He was blessedly silent as we disembarked, except for a courteous exchange with Brosh which surprised me, and didn't even argue with me when I asked that he remain in the motel room Fina had found for us to stay in while I searched for a new house. His newfound docility was more than a little unnerving to me, and I got the feeling that this was merely the calm before the storm. Carrion was lying in wait, and I had no idea as to when or where the trap would be sprung. Far from terrified, I felt a perverse excitement, as though this were part of some lovers' game.

_If only..._

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Watching salt clouds billow.  
Brimming and brand-new.  
Down below, I will follow,  
What bubbles tell me to._

"Ah, I love the smell of black powder in the morning!" Xandra exclaimed throatily.

I eyed her. "You know, if you'd been standing a hair to the left, a shot from one of those pistols would have hit you."

She threaded her arm through mine as we strolled. "Oh, I'm only kidding. Try to relax, Yseult. The marketplace is busy, people are singing and fighting and shopping. Shopping is fun, why aren't you having fun?"

"I have too much on my mind to have fun." I replied, pulling Xandra out of the way of a pair of drunken brawlers.

"I know. But things are already getting better for us."

"Better? You call settling in a pirate haven better?"

"Not all pirates are bad, Yseult, you said so..."

"Yes, but they are the exception, not the rule. Don't romanticize them." I cautioned her. "You have to be careful, Xandra. I cannot always be there to protect you."

She fell silent as we continued strolling through the marketplace under the blazing sun, our sunglasses doing little to alleviate our discomfort. The heat was beginning to get to me as I still wore my heavy wool coat. My face hadn't quite healed yet, and I could not overcome my vanity. I would rather hide behind a fur collar and suffer under the 1:00 sun than let anyone get a good look at my mottled face. The contrast would be even greater while I stood beside Xandra, with her perfect beauty. It was good that I had managed to get her out of the house with me; I didn't care for the amount of time she was spending with Letheo. It was obvious that the beast boy was enamored of my sister, which was the last thing I needed considering how complicated things were becoming between his master and myself. An even closer degree of affinity must be avoided at all costs. Xandra was young, there was no reason she shouldn't find several young men on the island to keep her attention. I smirked inwardly; what a choice, pirate or beast?

As if on cue, a small group of young corsairs appeared from around the corner. The first stumbled upon seeing my sister, and the men following close behind him swore as they tripped over him. Their oaths died in their throats as we passed, each head turning to follow Xandra. She flipped her golden hair over her shoulder and smiled back at them.

"Careful about encouraging them, my dear." I warned. "Pirates aren't known for their honest intentions toward women."

"Oh, for Izabella's sake, I'm not looking to marry one of them. I'm just having a bit of fun. You remember fun, don't you?"

"Oh, it's been so long, I can hardly recall..."

"Yseult!"

We spent the rest of out afternoon finishing the household shopping and stopped for coffee in a small café. Truly, people watching on Hobarookus was far superior to Idjit. I smiled as I saw several feathery kalukwa children playing tag with a gruff-looking guardian. The obvious love he bore for the unusual youths was touching. I felt a pang of loss as I thought of Xaver's smiling face as he lifted Xandra on his shoulders while Fina and I ran about his feet. _Will I ever be that happy again?_

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I have never been like this before,  
__Felt my body sinking to the grassy floor.  
__No, I have never known a love like this,  
__Felt the flaming arrow of the hunter's kiss._

I stood at the only window in the house we hadn't boarded up or covered with heavy curtains to block out the light. Shielding ourselves from the brightness of Day, and glances from passers-by, had the side effect of turning the house into an oven. Something would have to be done about that. Fina and Xandra had retired to our room early in an attempt to sleep away the discomfort for a few hours. I surveyed the neighborhood through the thick uneven glass of the window. There were many such piecemeal houses on our street as this one, giving the appearance of a crowded block which was in reality only inhabited by six or seven "families."

None of us had managed to find work yet, as the number of jobs I was willing to let my sisters take was limited. There was no shortage of illicit business ventures and employment opportunities on Hobarookus, several which were only for attractive young women, and I would see them dead before being used so. Still, there were some promising avenues open to us because of our connections through our uncle. Xaver's name still held the respect of many sailors and I was sure I could find a position on some sort of short distance merchant vessel. Hobarookus is famous for its unparalleled cuisine, and I was sure Fina could make a decent wage as a chef. I was so lost in thought, I didn't notice anyone else was in the room. An arm snaked its way about my waist, and a large hand came up to cover my mouth. I felt him lean down to press his lips into my hair. A small cry escaped my own lips as the hand at my waist tightened painfully. The trap had been sprung, I realized too late.

"Shh..." he whispered in my ear, the tip of his metal claw etching cruelly enticing promises along my lower belly. I sought to free myself from his grasp, protesting weakly.

"M...my sisters..."

"Are sleeping soundly in their beds."

"In the next room." I pointed out.

"All the more reason for you to be quiet."

"What about you?"

"Me, be quiet? Whatever for?" My breath left me in a violent exhalation as I was spun about and slammed against the wall. Carrion's pale eyes were glowing in the dim light seeping under the heavy curtains. My face felt as though I were still in the bookshop back in Idjit, the flames creeping up my skin, as his tall form pressed me back against the wall. "_I_ don't care if your lovely sisters are privy to what happens between us, Yseult. Please, make all the noise you like if it doesn't matter to you."

An arrogant smirk crossed his misshapen mouth. "Let them watch."

I ducked my head in anger and embarrassment that he would seek to have me against a wall with people everywhere, as though I were a dockside doxy.

"Letheo is just outside the door..."

"Don't flatter yourself, girl. He has no interest in how I choose to use you."

_Use me..._The pain his words fostered in my heart was unacceptable to me. I resolved to divorce my heart from what was happening with my flesh and allowed him to slice through the threads holding the buttons to my shirt. I counted them as I heard them hit the wooden floor. _One, two, three, four..._

"Such an obliging girl."

He was so cold. I knew how cold his hands were when they enveloped my throat or my arms, but his touch on my more sensitive, less frequently bared skin was icy torture. I fancied his fingers were leaving trails of frost across my ribcage. I felt his mouth trailing along my collarbone and lower, and I strained against him, raising one foot and pressing it flat against the wall. All too suddenly he pulled back and straightened, leaving me feeling absurdly bereft of warmth. I blinked as my confused mind tried to reorder itself.

"Don't be so eager to give yourself up, Yseult. The hunt has merely begun." Carrion drawled, wiping his thumb across his lower lip. "I'd hate to tire of you before I've had the chance to thoroughly enjoy myself."

I felt my cheeks burning with shame as I sough to cover myself, pulling the two halves of my ruined shirt together across my chest.

"Go to sleep, child. You look a mess."

His flippant tone was more than I could bear, and I stared up at him in defiance. "Damn you." I seethed.

"Oh, I am most thoroughly damned already, my dear, so you needn't waste your feeble curses on me." Carrion replied, his voice low and even. "But why are you so angry at me? I have merely been accepting what you have been so gracious to make available to me. Or do you deny that my attentions are wanted?"

"I've never asked you to touch me..." I began.

"You didn't have to. More telling is the fact that you never asked me to_ stop_." He paused, his expression turning from superior to serious as he gripped my upper arms in his bruising grasp and brought his face close to mine. "Don't you dare try to deceive yourself, girl. Lie to me all you like, tell me my touch is abhorrent to you, but do not attempt to deceive your own heart."

Once again his face turned arrogant as he released me and turned to leave the drawing room. Alone, I sank to the floor, my back propped up against the wall. I had no tears, thank Izabella; rather I felt more like stone or wood. Something unfeeling. Breathing slowly, I placed my head between my hands and closed my eyes. It frustrated me that my first experience of adult passion should so often leave me weeping like an infant. I wouldn't let him get to me like that anymore, I decided as I hardened my heart towards soft thoughts. If pleasure and distraction were all he sought from me while he plotted his ascension and searched for his lost princess, then so be it. That would be all I would look for from him as well. Relationships were often built on less, after all.


	13. The Day is order, earth and gold

_Author's note: Okay, okay. It's been a while, I know. I apologize. Life sometimes gets in the way of what we'd rather be doing. Well, for those of you patient enough to still be with me, I hope you're not disappointed by my humble offering here. I tried to make it long enough to not be disappointing. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters, reviews make my day! I hope you find this one worthy of your time as well. You all rock my socks off._

Chapter 13: The Day is order, earth and gold

-------------------------------------------

_Can't y__ou realize  
__You gain nothing by that?  
__That's no way to keep his heart warm, baby,  
__When his love grows cool._

Strangely, once I had accepted the nature of the relationship between the dark prince and myself, if such an arrangement could be called a _relationship_, I felt relieved. It was simple, and providing I didn't allow myself to feel anything beyond the superficial, I thought I could probably use the situation to my advantage. After all, it was well known that the ancient warrior kings listened to the advice of their mistresses more often than that of their generals. I didn't need romance; I had never even allowed myself to fantasize about it. I hadn't the time while caring for my family.

It was in that capacity that I left our odd little house in search of a way to relieve the heat. Those heavy curtains were going to be the death of us if an alternative wasn't found, and quickly. I walked alone, Fina having gone to interview at a café on the pier and Xandra sleeping away the heat, into the heart of the So-Down(as was the name of our new suburb) business district. Mrs.Sleaforth, a neighbor, had been kind enough to give me the address of a home supply shop where I was assured to find whatever I needed. The streets were crowded as ever with the usual Hobarookan traffic. My small stature allowed me to slip around the Kalukwa people, pirates, occasional Sea-Skippers and the like with ease. Perhaps I was a little too below notice, I thought as a squat person shrouded in a maroon cloak tripped over me.

"Sorry..." I attempted to apologize, but a fat fit closed around my wrist.

"It would behoove you to _watch your step_." the raspy voice in my ear was laced with menace.

I pulled away and mumbled something akin to an apology, but the figure had already swept past me and was disappearing through a tall, narrow door. As it closed, I noticed it blended into the surrounding wall with a barely visible outline; an interlocking CB burned into its surface. Then the crowd was surging against me.

"Would you get out of the way!"a gruff, yellow-scaled captain grunted as he pushed past me.

I allowed myself to be carried along by the current of people on the main thoroughfare until I turned down a side street. I pulled out the directions Mrs. Sleaforth had written down for me and checked it against the street. So far so good. I glanced down the sidewalk at the buildings. There, sandwiched in between a cobbler's shop and a dental office, was a tall building with a large front window. I could see row after row of crown molding, different styles of chandeliers, and dozens of doors mounted onto a wall, opening onto nonexistent rooms. A large sign above the door proclaimed _Chudderly Scarcliff's Renovations and Architectural Details._ A bell above the door heralded my arrival as I entered, sending a pang through me as I thought of my lost bookstore.

"Can I help you, miss?"the shopkeeper, a man built like a battleship and colored like a lobster, regarded me from behind the counter.

"My family and I have just bought a house and the sunlight is proving to be a bit much for us. I hung some heavy curtains over the windows, but now it's so hot inside we can barely stand it. Do you have anything that could block out the light without blocking the air as well?"

"Ah yes, from a Night Isle, are you then?"he asked, already knowing the answer. "We have just the thing. More and more of you Nightsiders are moving to Day isles, we started carrying special items to refit the houses."

He led me over to a wall housing several examples of tinted glass and window coverings. One section in particular was just for ventilation. First donning a pair of thick leather gloves, he pulled down a piece of black semi-translucent glass that had been cut into a long thin rectangle.

"Obsidian blinds, from Mt. Galigali. They keep the light out, and cut down on prying neighbors, if you catch my meaning, and you can adjust them to open enough to let in some air."

"Perfect, this is exactly what I was hoping for."I sighed in relief and reached out my hand.

He pulled the obsidian plank out of my reach. "Careful, this stuff is the sharpest substance in the islands. It'll flay you open before you can even feel it. Of course the cut will heal nice and clean because of such a thin edge, but you'll have bled out by then."

"...I see. Is it safe to hang these in my house?" I asked.

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure. I'll install them for you. You should be fine as long as you keep them tilted at less than ninety degrees." he paused. "Or keep from hurling yourself at them."

He laughed, and I forced a smile, thinking that with everything going on in the house, I might have to worry about someone being forced against the sharp blinds. _Of course, that _someone_ is most likely to be you..._

I hate me sometimes.

--------------------------------------------

_Young boys would tack her picture over their bed.  
__They saw her mouth move,  
__But couldn't hear what she said._

"Ahhh..."Xandra sighed, lifting her hair off her neck and letting fall over the back of the chair. "This is so much better!"

The dim light that filtered through our new obsidian blinds cast a grey wash over her long honeyed hair. The three of us were lounging in the living room in our shifts, circled around an old tub we dragged into the room and filled with water, fanning ourselves with large rainpalm leaves. With the blinds slightly opened, we were receiving a nice crosswind just come off the coast from Jibbarish. Fina closed her eyes and let her head fall back for a moment, holding the rainpalm over herself so the water drained out of the leaf's thick veins and sprinkled her. Exhaling, she straightened and dipped the leaf into the tub of water to refill it.

"I bet you feel better without all your layers on." she remarked, leaning back into the chaise we were sharing.

"Mmm hmm..." I replied, enjoying the feeling of air whispering past my shoulder blades. "I'm a little glad my hair is shorter now. This heat would be so much worse if I still had that thick fall of it."

"You don't really have to keep wearing that heavy coat..."

"How was the interview?" I changed the subject.

"It went fine. I expect the head chef will call in a few days. There weren't very many qualified applicants." Fina replied.

"Good." I looked over at Xandra. "It would be a help if we could find something for you to do, as well."

"I'm not cooking, I hate the heat as is it." she quipped.

"You don't have to cook. I was actually thinking you might like to work with me on a ship."

She sat up immediately. "A ship? Like one that travels all over the islands?"

"Well, I was thinking more like a short-range vessel..."

Her interest sagged. "Oh."

"Just think about it, will you?"

An especially delicious breeze cut off further discussion. My mind wandered back to the cloaked figure and the strange door. The monogram on the door didn't belong to any organization that I knew of. Maybe it was one of the many secret societies that flourished on Hobarookus. Most didn't last very long, being only glorified men's clubs. Still, there were a small number that held considerable sway in the islands. Occasionally some conspiracy-theory zealot would launch a campaign against any of a number of these societies, claiming they were the true power in the Abarat. No one put much stock into their ravings; these were the same people that had been prophesying the end of the world as long as anyone could remember. Perhaps I'd ask Carrion about it later...

I pulled off my head scarf and dipped my scalp into the tub.

"What's in your hair?" Xandra asked.

"What? Nothing..." I ran my fingers through it.

"No, it's the color..." Fina spread my hair apart, peering at the roots. "Yseult, your hair's growing in grey."

"What!" I stood and ran into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. Raking my hair back with my fingers, I exposed my roots. They were not, in fact, grey. They were white. Bright, shocking, last-virgin-bride-in-the-islands white. I was not happy.

"What the Hell is happening to me?" I asked Fina's reflection.

She shrugged from over my shoulder. "Shock, probably. You went through a serious trauma."

"I know I went through a serious trauma, but I didn't think it was enough to turn my hair white! I'm glad to see you're taking it in stride." I stated, turning my attention back to the travesty sprouting from my head. "As if my skin isn't bad enough."

While Carrion's lotion had done wonders to speed the healing process, the large blisters that had formed hardened, and were finally falling off. This had the unfortunate effect of making me look like a leper.

Sighing, I stepped back from the mirror. "You know, I think I'm just going to buy a mask, until my face is back to normal."

"You can't be serious."

"Sure. It'll be fun. Theatrical. Like Fasher Demerondo said, 'The Night is masks and silver and ambiguity.'" I winked at her. "And it'll protect my vanity."

"Whatever makes you happy."

------------------------------------------

_Neglected girls shouldn't worry,  
__That's what God made sailors for._

Alright, so walking around in a full face mask made me feel very silly, but it did help. It was shiny, silver, and it reflected people's faces back at them, which means a lot more people were looking at me. People love to look at themselves. Plus, I took Fina's advice and no longer wore my red coat. A good thing, too, given how gamey it was starting to smell, being worn everyday in the sun. Several comfortable, long sleeved tunics had replaced it, along with some light gloves to cover my peeling hands. With the mask and my cropped two-tone hair, I no longer looked anything like myself. It was fun for me. I could walk around, pretending to be someone completely different from myself. Someone carefree, no secrets burdening her heart. Removing the mask once safely inside my house felt like taking up the weight of the world once again. I briefly toyed with the idea of running away and joining the circus. It would never work, but it was a nice daydream.

After a few days of enjoying this "new" me, I went down to the docks and checked out a few merchant vessels. There were several taking on new crew members. Merchant crews were constantly jumping ship to join pirate crews. Only a handful of ships looked sound enough for me. Most were dressed up to look respectable, but the flaws were obvious to experienced sailors.

"Hey," someone to my left addressed me. "in the mask."

I turned and saw a girl about my age, pretty, looking about two generations removed from Sea-Skippers, her fingers slightly webbed. She smiled brilliantly. "You lookin' for work?"

"Yes, actually."

"You're comin' on my boat."

I paused, amused. "What makes you so sure about that?"

"I been watchin' you, pacin' up and down the docks. You've been eyein' everyone's ships, sizin' 'em up. You walk right by ones that would look sound to anyone else, which means you know your stuff, which means you're comin' on my boat, 'cause she's the best."

I scanned the two-masted schooner, looking for anything; shoddily patched sails, loose rudder, thick barnacles on her belly. "She looks alright enough. Nothing really special."

"Oh she's special, you believe me." she flipped her straight fall of sleek, black hair over her shoulder.

"What kind of work do you do?"

"Mostly we run between here and the Yebba Dim Day, ferryin' for the corporations. We take freelance work, too, sometimes. You wanna come meet the captain?"

"Alright, sure." I said after a moment's pause.

I followed her up the gangplank onto the deck. The rest of the motley crew were busy loading barrels and crates down into the hold. She glanced over her shoulder at me. "I'm Valentine, and this is _Fortune's Providence_."

"_Fortune's Providence_?" I asked as we climbed the steps up to the forecastle deck.

"Yeah, the captain's a little pretentious, sometimes. Here he is." She gestured to a large man with azure blue skin and long orange braids. "Captain Genet, this is..."

"Yseult." I extended my hand.

"Yseult's lookin' for work. I don't know if she's a sailor, but she knows her ships." Valentine said, as the captain shook my hand.

"Do ye, now? Have ye any sailin' experience?"

"I grew up on a boat, sailing with my uncle. He was a very experienced sailor, and he taught me well." I glossed over my past. My uncle's name could only take me so far, and I didn't know these people.

"Well, we're setting out for the Yebba in four hours. We'll try ye out, and if it goes well, perhaps ye'll have a place in my crew." he began walking away from me.

"And how much would this position pay?" I called after.

He turned, half chuckling. "Why don't we just see if ye can pull yer weight before we start haggling over wages."

That looked to be the end of the interview, as Valentine stepped up to see me off the ship. She waved at me as I headed up the dock toward the town. _Nice girl,_ I thought. Really, I had been starting to worry about how we were going to make ends meet if I didn't get work soon. The house was ours, but it needed upkeep, and we were hungry. Letheo's appetite had increased threefold for some _reason_, and there was barely any food left in the house. Even if I didn't get signed on as one of the _Fortune's _crew, an afternoon's pay would be invaluable.

--------------------------------------------

_A romantic scene, from a lullaby,  
__In a clearing green, where his eyes met mine.  
__I was frozen motion,  
__Oh, his bow was raised.  
__Then the fleeting notion,  
__That my life he'd save. _

"Hey, I'm home!" I removed my mask and set it on a table by the door. "Fina? Xandra?"

No one answered, so I went looking for them. There was a note from Fina on the bed. She had gotten a call from the restaurant she'd applied at, and had left for a second interview. No mention of where Xandra had got to. She had been itching to get out of the house for a while, I knew. After a long conversation on personal safety, I had relented on my policy of house-arrest. She was growing up, after all. I still had a few hours before my own "interview", so I decided to enjoy having the house to myself for a bit. I changed into a linen shift and curled up on the living room sofa with a book of Righteous Bandy's poetry.His last poem was my favorite. Even with everything else that had happened, the crew dead and the boat sinking, he could still appreciate the beauty of Mama Izabella. _How very blue the sea is, indeed..._

I was looking forward to sailing again. My uncle's boat had been more of a sloop than a schooner like _Fortune's Providence_, with just a single mast, but she had been lovely. Her bowsprit was almost as long as her hull, and she was one of the fastest ships on the water, sometimes even exceeding eleven knots. I had thrilled at it. Her shallow draft had made sailing close to the shore a breeze, and on special trips Xaver had even sailed her up the rivers into the hearts of the Night Isles. _Fortune_ couldn't sail up rivers, but she had a shallow enough draft to hide in the shoal waters, if need be. Lowering my book, I relaxed against the sofa. This was going to be a thoroughly enjoyable adventure for me.

"You certainly look comfortable." came a joyless voice.

_ Of course,_ I thought, _here comes a black rain cloud to spoil my mood._ Carrion was watching me from the doorway that joins the two halves of the house. Once we'd moved in, I stayed out of that wing completely. I could only imagine what he had done to the place.

"I am very comfortable, my lord." I replied. "It isn't often both of my sisters are out of the house."

"Yes, it does seem strangely quieter when Xandra, in particular, is absent." he half-smiled.

"And, as usual, she didn't leave me a note. I don't suppose she told you where she was going?"

"She's out with Letheo." he replied, turning toward his own chambers.

"Wait, what?" I started up. "She's out with Letheo? Where did they go?"

Carrion chuckled. "So the thought of your attractive young sister out alone in So-Down doesn't bother you, but the thought of her off with my protege does?"

"Well, no, it's just..." I faltered. "I...I don't really know him that well. That's all."

"No need to worry. She wanted to get out for a bit, and I didn't think it prudent to allow her to go unescorted, so I sent him with her. She's completely safe." Carrion walked over to the couch and looked down at me. "I've told you time and again that as long as you obey me I will take care of everything. It pains me you still don't trust me, Yseult."

The glint in his eye betrayed more amusement than pain.

"Fear is more powerful motivator than trust, and I have ample reason for that, my lord." I countered. "In any case, I know he doesn't like me much, and I don't like the way he looks at her."

"As you say, fear is more powerful, and believe me when I say he has more reason to fear me than you do. He knows that if he does anything untoward with young Xandra, I will skin him alive in one long strip and then re-affix it to his body inside out." he lowered himself to site beside me on the sofa. Alarms went off in my head. "Xandra is safe, as long as I am pleased.

"Well, then, it seems I have nothing to worry about." I moved away from Carrion, sensing a repeat of our last encounter in the drawing room.

"As long as I am pleased." he repeated. "You do want to keep me pleased, don't you, Yseult?"

"I...I have to go, soon..." for some reason, my voice wouldn't raise above a whisper. "I'm supposed to go to the Yebba Dim Day..."

"When?" he was moving closer.

"Soon." I lied.

"More original than pleading a headache, I suppose." he replied, sliding my shift further up my thigh. "Still, you'll have to do better than that."

"No, truly. I have an interview, of a sort, with a merchant vessel." I protested, trying to right my clothing. "They're trying me out on a trip to the Yebba. I'll have to leave soon. I need to be working in order to maintain our position here. Surely you see the importance of that, my lord?"

He sighed and rose from the couch. "Very well. Go to your 'interview'. You had better secure the position. I have plans for us in the near future, and I don't believe your meager nest egg will suffice."

I breathed a sigh of relief and headed toward my bedroom. So I would arrive a little early, I was sure an extra pair of hands could be put to work preparing for the trip. I hoped that actively sailing for a while would take my mind off things for a while. Carrion had seriously damaged my calm for the day. Part of me felt that he was just having fun toying with me, while the other part cautioned that he was much larger and much stronger than I. He did still need my help, and whatever amusements he had from me weren't nearly as important as his plans for us, and more importantly, himself. Still, keeping myself out of these situations was becoming increasingly difficult, and no doubt there would be many times when we'd be the only ones home. I'd have to cross that bridge when I came to it.


	14. It is the Philosophers in their Cities

_Author's note: Well, to make a long story short, I learned to knit, graduated from college, and buried my grandfather, so I think it's time to take up the tale again. Not a whole lot of our beloved Prince in this chapter, I'm afraid. I'm building up to something important, after which I promise things will get more interesting. The material is also going to get a sight more mature. Nothing graphic, but we'll be exploring complex issues. I hope you trust me enough to come along. Enjoy!_

_P.S. How romantic is Pushing Daisies::swoon::_

Chapter 14: It is the philosophers in their cities

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Study hard and go west,  
You'll go far, little girl.  
Now try hard and be the best,  
The best in all the world._

"You're early." Valentine remarked as I approached. "Thought you were restin' up before."

"Honestly, I'd rather be here. Anything I can do to help?" I smiled beneath my mask.

"Well, most everything has been loaded already, but I can show you around now if you like."

I nodded and followed her up the gangplank onto the schooner. "I never asked you, what is it you do?"

"I'm the bosun."

I chuckled.

"What's so funny?" she asked, pausing with her hand on her hip.

"Nothing, I didn't mean any disrespect. You just don't seem the disciplinarian type."  
"You haven't seen anyone cross me yet." her voice was light and airy, but there was steel in her eyes. "Well, you've seen the deck. Captain's quarters are below the forecastle deck. Of course you're familiar with the mainmast and foremast. The captain had the castle decks built special, Fortune didn't have 'em originally. He said it was for tactical purposes, but I think he just likes the way they look. It's not like we have archers or anything. A foredeck and quarterdeck would've done just fine..."

Her voice trailed off as she disappeared down the steps below deck. The crew's quarters were on the first level below deck; the quartermaster's on the starboard side of the bulwark toward the stern, Valentine's on the port side, with the first mate and the cook sharing the room on the starboard side below the captain's quarters.

"You'll be sharin' a room with the master gunner if the captain decides to take you on. Don't worry, she's nice."

We continued our descent to the second level below deck.

"And here's the galley." she said. "Nothin' like a good meal after a long day."

Valentine slipped onto a bench beside a gangly young Kalukwa boy. "And this is our cook, Bend."

"Hello." I smiled. He awkwardly returned my greeting, nervously fluffing his feathers. I looked around the room at the few other people.

"That's the quartermaster, Atir." Valentine pointed to a large handsome woman clad in leather leaning against a barrel. "Doesn't talk much. The skinny guy over there with the rings, that's Switch. He's mine. Then there's Angel and Eyebright, they're always loud, you get used to it. Eyebright's the master gunner, Angel's the first mate. Hey, Angel!"

Valentine caught her mark's eye and they began loudly conversing across the room, leading Bend to shove her off the bench with the suggestion she join Angel on his end of the table. I sat awkwardly to one side while the rest of the crew continued to banter. After a while the young man Valentine had pointed out as her boyfriend approached. "Mind if I join you?"

"Please, you would be doing me a service."

"Switch," he introduced himself, sliding onto the bench beside me. "I'm the navigator."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Yseult."

"Yes, I know. You seem to have impressed Valentine. Not an easy feat, mind you." he winked.

"And yet one you have managed as well, so it seems." I smiled back.

"I keep wondering how..." he stared off for a moment. "How rude of me not to offer refreshment. A black jack of our finest."

He handed me the tar-stiffened leather tankard which was full of dark liquid. I took a large drink, which proved to be a mistake. It burned like fire on the way down. Switched laughed at my sputtering. "A little strong for you?"

"Maybe just a bit." I laughed. "Good, though."

"Thanks. I brew it myself. The captain prefers having our own supply."

"Smart man."I took a careful sip. So what are we ferrying, anyway? Yebba's not exactly a trading post."

"No, but there are markets if you know where to look. We have a very wealthy buyer waiting for our product."

"And what exactly is the product, if I'm allowed to know?"

"You wanna see?" he raised an eyebrow and flashed a startlingly bright grin.

I nodded eagerly. He motioned for me to follow as he stood. We descended the stairs into the hold, where I saw stacks of crates lined up against the sides of the schooner. Switch pulled one of the crates out and set it down between us, then picked up a crowbar. He prised it's lid off, revealing a gleaming bed of pastel pearls. Reaching into the crate, he scooped up a handful and let them fall, one by one, into my outstretched hand.

"Are these what I think they are?" I asked, examining one pale blue specimen.

"Yeah, but don't talk about it. Can't be too careful."

The goats of Speckle Frew were a rare breed. Highly valued both for the iridescent fiber spun from their coats and the precious pearls they grew in their bellies, the small beasts were notoriously hard to catch, spending most of their time hiding from the island's more ferocious inhabitants. A single flawless pearl could fetch three paterzem, easy. Here were crates upon crates, each holding thousands of matched pairs in the softest shades. They were also highly illegal.

We returned to the galley, where Angel was standing on one leg on the table, flapping his arms and cawing. Valentine looked over her shoulder, black eyes sparkling, as she laughed.

"There you two are. Sneakin' off without me, Switch?" she walked over, embracing the navigator.

"I would never be so rude as to not invite you." he replied.

The heavy sound of boots coming down the stairs heralded the captain's arrival. "Well, are ye havin' a tea party or are ye ready to sail?"

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_For somebody who don't drive  
I've been all around the world.  
Some people say I've done all right  
For a girl._

I had always enjoyed taking trips to Yebba with my uncle. Sailing the familiar waters I hadn't traversed in so long was comforting and a bit bittersweet. We passed Yzil on the port side, covered with its brilliant forests and shining like an emerald in the sea, the warm wind carrying the scent of musky, exotic flowers to us.

Finally, the great silhouette of the Yebba Dim Day broke the horizon. As we grew closer, I could make out the people, tiny as insects, scurrying about their business. The whole gave the impression of a swimming giant with a case of parasites. I busied myself with checking the rigging and other small tasks until we were close enough to begin docking in the small harbor between the torso and the arm of the giant.

The slow approach into the harbor was interminable, and pregnant with the promise of discovery. All it took was for an officer to do a search of the vessel and we'd be spending the next century chained to wall. Or worse. The schooner pulled up smoothly to the dock, and I helped secure her to it while the captain headed down the gangplank and cut a swath through the thick crowd. After I lost sight of him, I turned to Switch.

"We're carrying illegal cargo, how are we going to get by the customs officials?"

"Well, the fact that one there happens to be our illustrious captain's twin brother might work in our favor." he flashed me conspiratorial grin. "Police Officer Branx."

I looked across the busy dock at where the captain had gone. The officer he stood talking with only resembled him in coloring and build, in every other way he was the straight-laced antithesis of the jovial captain. His grim expression did nothing to set me at ease. I had the feeling that the captain had neglected to inform his cousin about our "business" until that very moment. The captain produced a swollen bag from his coat, pressing it into the officer's hand. It had the intended effect. The officer wrote something hastily onto a yellow slip of paper, which he handed to Captain Genet. The captain laughed and clapped his cousin on the back, though the latter didn't seem at all amused. Looking over his shoulder, the captain gestured for us. I took my place opposite Eyebright, one of the large crates between us. We bent down, hooking our fingers under the box.

"Ready, on three..." Eyebright counted and we hoisted the heavy crate up. I felt a twinge in my back. "Easy there, Yseult, ya got it er what?"

"I've got it." I breathed through clenched teeth. Eyebright backed slowly down the gangplank. I adjusted my pace to match hers. Somehow we managed to maneuver the thing all the way up the dock to the mainland where Captain Genet waited.

"Set 'er down."

We complied. I looked back at the ship and saw the others engaged in a similar dance, although they seemed to manage more gracefully that I had. Valentine winked at me as she deliberately picked up her stride, causing Switch to stumble.

"Hey, careful, sweetheart." he complained. She laughed.

I stared up the steep incline that led to the nearest entrance into the Head. Switch joined me. "Pretty steep."

"That's an understatement." I looked over at him.

"Hope you had a big breakfast." Valentine's voice at my other shoulder surprised me.

"Wait, we're carrying these things up there?"

"You're not slacking off on us, are you?"

"No, but that is a really long..." my words were cut short by the arrival of the Captain with an official transport car.

"Well," he said, "don't just stand around, start loading 'em up."

Valentine and Switch began laughing.

"So we don't have to carry them up?" I asked.

"No." Valentine replied, wiping a tear.

"But you should have seen the look on your face." Switch grinned.

"Pure evil." I shook my head.

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_It's there that no one will stare  
__At your jaws and your long hair,  
__The claws on your fingers._

I sank to the deck, swinging my legs out on either side of the bowsprit. We were approaching Yzil again, this time on the starboard side. Staring at it's bright foliage, I thought about the Princess Breath and the various demi-gods of the islands. The familiar and comforting rhythm of the schooner as it crested the waves lulled me into a meditative state. The troubles of the past months; Carrion, the unrest in the Isles sparked by the girl and her friends, the consequences of all on my sisters. They all seemed so far away. Mama Izabella was cradling me with the same gentleness She had when I was five in the Boudicca. I was pulled from my trance by Valentine tapping my shoulder.

"Oh, hello." I blinked up at her.

"Are you alright?" she sat beside me, the two of us dangling our legs over the side. "I mean, you seem sad."

"I'm fine, really. I just have a lot on my plate right now."

"You know, you can take the mask off, if you like." she gave me a brief smile. "I don't mind. After bein' on the Fortune this long, I've pretty much seen it all."

I laughed slightly. What the hell... I turned my face partly away from her and slipped the mask off, laying it beside me on the deck. It's silver surface reflected the bright Noon-day sun coming off Yzil to the east. I looked over at Valentine.

"See," she said softly, "That's not too bad, is it?"

She brushed the hair back off my face. "Valentine, I..."

"Am I paying ye to get yer hair played at now?" Captain Genet thundered onto the bow. Quickly I replaced my mask and stood.

"So I am to be payed, then?"

He smiled. "Aye, yer to be payed. Ye did better than I thought ye would. Truth be told, I half expected my last deckhand to come crawlin' back once her meal-ticket saw the size of her belly. But ye'll do just as well, as long as yer careful. We'll be docked in Hobarookus for a day or so, and then we have business in Tazmagor. We'll be there a week. It won't be too bright for ye, Nightdweller?"

"I'll manage."

"That ye will." he smiled and held out a small bag. "Yer wages."

I opened the bag and dumped its contents into my palm. There were a dozen of the luminous pearls glinting in the afternoon sun. The captain looked over his shoulder as he returned to the foredeck.

"Remember, we leave this time tomorrow, with or without you."

"I'll be here." I pocketed my wages and turned to go ashore while the others returned below deck. Valentine caught my arm as I started down the gangplank.

"You don't have to be so guarded." she chewed her lower lip. "You can trust me, Yseult."

I nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Valentine!" Switch called.

"Coming..." she glanced at me once more before hurrying over to him. He waved at me, smiling that sun-bright smile. I felt a fishhook snag my heart. Careful, then.

It was rush hour down at the docks, with boats racing to snag a place to put in until morning. I used my short stature to my advantage, sliding between people quickly to get back home.

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_The ostrich and the egret  
Had a very fine flat to let.  
Figurine hutch, the place wasn't much,  
But they got a peacock._

"Fina, Xandra!" I tossed my jacket onto the chaise in the front room.

"Hey, you're home." Fina's head poked around the corner from the kitchen. "How did it go?"

"It went like this." I handed her the bag of pearls. "Where's Xandra?"

I heard the bag hit the floor as I looked down the hall. Turning around, I saw Fina on her knees, hastily scooping the pastel jewels back into the bag.

"Where did you get these?" Fina hissed. "Do you know how much trouble..."

"Yes, I do. Don't worry. This is Hobarookus, there are plenty of places you can exchange them at. And there's more where that came from." I strode down the hall to my room. "Things are finally looking up for us. We'll be able to put away a good amount of money..."

"Since when is money so important to you?" Fina asked, one elegant eyebrow arched.

"You know as well as I do that it's the only form of security left to Nightdwellers. We need to be able to afford to disappear if we have to." I opened my valise and began transferring clothes from my dresser.

"Yseult!" Xandra caught me from behind in an embrace. "How was it? Do you like the other sailors? Did you bring me anything back from Yebba?"

"It was fine, the other sailors are nice, and I brought you this." I handed her a lavender pearl. "Buy yourself something pretty."

Xandra squealed in delight. Fina gave me a skeptical look. "I thought we're supposed to be saving up."

"Let her enjoy herself a bit, Fina." I turned back to my packing. "Anyway, it's kind of a bribe."

"A bribe?" Xandra asked. "For what?"

"We're leaving for Tazmagor tomorrow. I'll be gone a week."

"A week? But you just got back." Xandra protested.

"It's fine. We'll be fine here." Fine placed a hand on Xandra's shoulder. "Are you hungry? I stopped by the market on the way home."

I nodded and continued packing a few changes of clothes while they went to the kitchen. The sound of their idle chatter floated down the hall. Closing my valise, I noticed Carrion leaning against the door frame.

"My lord." I inclined my head in acknowledgement.

"Your 'interview' went well, I take it."

"Yes, it did. And it pays well, which should please you, with all your ambitious plans." I looked away.

He crossed the room and sat on my bed while I lifted the valise onto the floor. He caught my arm as I passed him and pulled me to stand before him. I felt decidedly uncomfortable, standing there with him holding my wrist, piercing my gaze.

"Something is going on with you, child, isn't it?" he asked softly, more to himself than to me. "There's a change in you. What is wrong with your eyes? Why can't I see myself in your eyes?"

I tried pulling away. "There is nothing wrong with my eyes, my lord."

His grip tightened. "Have you betrayed me?" the menace in his voice was unmistakable.

"No, my lord! Never!" I wrenched my arm out of his grasp.

"Keep your secrets, then. I'll find them out in my own time." he swept out of the room.

I sank onto my bed, catching my breath. Unbidden, the look on Valentine's face as she brushed my hair back swam into my mind.


End file.
